It was the first time I'd set foot outside the apartment courtyard in over a week. I have been down with this cough-thing that is going around. Viral, of course, so the best thing to do is lie low and push fluids - or in my case lie semi-supine on a foam-wedge pillow, since being horizontal made it hard to breathe. I haven't been this sick in a long time; I'm on the mend but still feeling like I need to go slowly about the noise and haste. The cough itself I am told lingers, and I am on day 9 of the average 18, but at least I can think again, and sleep curled up on my side again. It's taken me 46 years to learn to sleep on my back and I still don't do it terribly well. (I blame ptsd; how do you feel safe while sleeping if you aren't at least a little curled up? Ans: I don't.)
What I'm trying to do with my time at the moment is finish up some short stories for submitting to Clarion West and such. What I'm actually doing at the moment is still finding it difficult to move beyond the mental acuity required for Bejeweled Blitz. But I have at least reached the point in convalescence where I feel enough better to wish I was all the way well, and to check in here, a bit.