Technically, it’s still “winter.”
It was 94°F in Los Angeles today — that doesn’t feel like “winter” to me.
Everyone in my household has been sick with whatever nasty creepin’ crud is going around. It’s an ugly piece of business and now it’s bitten me.
My sinuses are so messed up I don’t feel human. I think I’m running a fever. My stomach feels creepy. I spent most of today unmedicated and wishing death as I was wrapped in blankets shivering from the air conditioning.
My brain still marginally works, but this has really knocked the wind out of me. Writing is on hold (as is the rest of my life) — my directive now is to just rest.