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Sunday, June 3, 2001

I keep trying to convince myself that I'm feeling better, but I'm really not. The only difference between today and a week ago is that I don't have diarrhea any more. But I also have a head that feels as if it's filled with cotton, and eyelids that feel like leaded weights. So I'm not really feeling all that much better, overall.

Last night I fell asleep on the couch, which is okay, but after I got up to go to bed I couldn't get back to sleep for a long time, which is not. Okay. It's not okay, it's really something other than okay. Because I woke up very late this morning feeling as if I were still asleep. I've been moving around slowly all day, just like a person who's still asleep.

Since I didn't get much work done yesterday, I planned to put in some time at the old spreadsheets today. I got as far as making a to-do list for tomorrow (and the rest of the year, judging by the length of the list), but I never got around to actually doing anything beyond opening the mail that's been sitting on my desk since Friday.

So I wasted my valuable time watching the Giants lose yet again in Denver. But at least I didn't have to get off the couch and grab a bat. All I could do was yell at them and curse the futility of it all.

After the game, I took my book out on the porch and read for a while. It wasn't long before my head was lolling back and forth, so I took it back inside and laid it on the couch. My head, not the book. It was a short nap, but I woke up feeling a little better.

That I fell asleep reading is no reflection on the book, by the way. I'm reading Winter Solstice, by Rosamunde Pilcher, which might seem an odd choice. Most of the characters are women, which is fine, because I adore women. It took me only fifty pages to realize I was going to like this story and read all the way to the end. It deals with my favorite theme in all literature: interconnectedness and the haphazard ways relationships are formed and families are created.

my garden has way too much pink

It's a good thing there are no cookies in the house (except Fig Newtons, which I eat for health reasons and in extreme moderation). In the state I'm in, I crave raisin cookies, and chocolate chip cookies, and peanut butter cookies. And ice cream. I really want some caramel ice cream. I think that would make me feel better, at least while I'm eating it. Afterward, not so much.

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