Yogi Throatcoat tea this morning read, "The purpose of life is to enjoy every moment." Cruel sonsabitches.
How can I possibly feel worse today than when this started? I felt pretty good yesterday, ran a few errands and went to a concert. Thank goodness for the respite.
When I get sick, I get down. Life becomes very small and isolated. Thank goodness for books. I just started (and am halfway through) Wild by Cheryl Strayed. Yes, it was one of the Oprah book club books, but never mind. It's the memoir of a young woman whose life is in a mess and she decides to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. A newbie to backpacking, she had chosen a doozey of a trail to hike. Mistakes were made. Lessons learned. Her description of the landscape makes me feel as if I am out there with her. I've done a fair amount of backpacking in my life, and I miss it. Her writing brings it all back to me, and is a great escape from the common cold.
