I wrote more today about the gym. I wrote for a long time. Some of it was o.k. and some of it was stilted. I will go back in the morning and see what works.
Tonight, though, I feel better than I have for a long time. I did light exercise this morning before I took an almost five mile walk. Afterwards I showered and ate and felt better, not worse. So maybe, fingers crossed, I am at the end of illness. I will never know if I had Trump-19 or something else. So be it. Whatever it was, I have survived for another day--or so it seems.
What I would like now is a really good taco. Or some Thai food. Something. I have made every meal for myself these past two weeks. I'm a good basic cook, and my meals are plenty healthy, but I need somebody else's cooking now. How long? Maybe in a couple days I can make a grocery run. I will buy potato chips and ice cream, I fear. I will buy frozen pizzas and Jimmy Dean Breakfast Sandwiches.
I guess I want a cheeseburger in paradise.
Trust me, this is a good thing.
I will go and watch some television in a bit. Maybe the sailing videos I've been watching on YouTube, maybe "Emma," as recommended by Lisa. I have almost finished another Houellebecq novel, and maybe I will before bed.
Mostly tonight I am grateful. I want to thank those of you who come here, and especially those of you who drop a note now and then, for keeping me from despair. Making pictures and making stories is one way of facing the void.
But people. . . that's the other.
Thank you, as well, for sharing your talent in writing (and in photography) with us! The Cafe continues to help us believe that it's still all OK somehow.
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