Sick

I feel so uninspired to write after this weekend, because I spent most of it in bed. Or reading. Or watching a movie. Or watching the big, fat flakes fall outside the window. Occasionally, when I am not sick, I wish that I was so that I could read, view, daydream. Of course when I really am, it is awful and I wish I was outside, feeling strong and healthy. But this weekend had some high points.

Before I was sick, on Friday night, I went to this amazing show by this burlesque group Yard Dogs Road Show www.yarddogsroadshow.com. Astounding visuals, great vocals, and a good all around time.

Reading my book, Ape House by Sara Gruen, in my bed, under my down comforter. The same author that wrote Like Water for Elephants. That one didn't blow me out of the water, and this one isn't either. But they are both entertaining reads.

Kombucha, something that tastes good to me when I have a cold.

Talking and laughing with my parents.

Feeling the fresh air in my lungs during a walk with Olive.

Watching Sylvia and feeling so sad for the talented Sylvia Plath; she couldn't realize how amazing she was and put so much dependence on a man.

My new book club, a group of five amazing women.

My Patriots winning against one of my least favorite football teams, the Steelers.

My clean sheets on my bed that is beckoning....