Ill
I have come down with a virus. The left side of my throat is swolllen and swallowing is next to impossible. I'm at work desperatly not wanting to be. I didn't sleep well last night and I've been terribly busy this past week. It only gets worse with next week being the "tech week" before Southern Fried. We will be rehearsing almost every day. I need to go home and nap, take a bath, and fix myself a cup of tea. My body is throwing up the white flag and I just need a little quiet. Cats curled beside me and the chance to do some reading if I so choose. Looking at myself in the mirror I realize I could frighten children. My pale skin has gone translucent and the dark circles under my eyes are flashing like lurid coffee shop signs. All the color is gone from my cheeks and I wince with every wash over my tongue. Rather than this plague I'm doing well. My money is mostly on track and I have my online banking all set up so I can check my account daily. This should help prevent those nasty over-drawn situations. My garden is thriving, peppers galore and the promise of strawberries and tomatoes. I have finally turned the curse of the black thumb green. God I'm tired. There is a painting at the gallerly I want so bad I'll cry if someone else buys it. It's out of my price range but everytime I see it my heart lights up. A rough, abstract, woman holding a large red fish. She looks so peaceful. Sometimes I look like that. The mailman is always so nice. It must be good to be a mailman.