1) This thing, this illness, is present in my chest. It's both trying to burrow in under my sternum and claw its way out through my throat.
1a) My chest is now a horror movie from the 1950s: Slime, The Creeping Crud, The Bog Within, Eternal Invasion, and of course No Escape.
2) Just taking in the fact that I have been out of work a full week, which has not exactly passed brilliantly like a comet.
2a) Idly speculating this morning about getting this week back at the end of my life for a redo, and wondering which week of my life I'd relive in exchange. Would it be a week of my early life when I was four, happily at home and school not even a thought? A week of my senior year at Interlochen? A week on vacation, and which one? Washington 1980, Hollywood 1994, Kauai 1996, St. Martin 2001, Provincetown before 2003, Paris 2008, Venice 2013, or another?
3) I have no idea why I stayed up until just past midnight reading Roz Chast's excellent and moving memoir about her parents, Can't We Talk about Something More Pleasant?, or why I started it again this morning for my devotional. But I did.