better

I should have known something was wrong Sunday, when I felt exhausted after sleeping so well Saturday night. I spent most of the day with my 2 favorite kiddos (the ones with a trampoline), and I just couldn't get into jumping like a maniac. But no, I didn't listen to my body and I went and played tennis Monday morning. And even after that proved disastrous, after I kept flat out missing balls by inches I went home and laughed at my sluggish self.

But Monday afternoon my throat turned sore and I knew something was up. By early Tuesday morning I was in terrible shape. Poor Robert went for syrups and lozenges at 3 in the morning, and I managed to sleep until 11 Tuesday morning. I woke briefly, thinking I should probably get dressed, but fell asleep again. Tuesday night was the worst.

I am normally a fighter when I get sick, but whatever I had kept me flat on my back, near tears with pain. Today, I woke feeling quite fine and started planning my day. I would eat something solid, take a shower, do a load of laundry, go to a job interview. With this great and fabulous plan I threw my feet over the side of the bed, went to the bathroom, and feeling quite dizzy and exhausted went back to bed.

: )

I am up now, though, and plan on taking it easy today.

Just be warned. If you are tired for no apparent reason, something is out to get you.

akamyrtle is still alive

Today an awesome thing happened. I just happened to be at a bbq joint (I know wtf, right?) and our first waiter looked familiar, and I instantly liked him but didn't know why. But then we had a waiter switch and I didn't think anything more about it. After we ate I used the restroom and as I walked back to the table the first waiter appeared and exclaimed, "Hannah Jane!" He was in one of my poetry classes from last year! And he remembered me! Of course I remembered him, not by face or voice, but by his words. In class he rarely talked, but his poems were brilliant, and I absolutely adored his style and always looked forward to class. I made copies of his poems and talked with Robert about him regularly. And here he was, telling me that he kept my poems too and that the respect and admiration was mutual. We discussed the MFA program, and admitted that we both hadn't been writing much lately. We talked for only a few brief minutes, but in those minutes I recognized the loss of writing in my life. If I could I would say thank you. I hope that you, too, are out there, staring at a page of dark humor, trying to figure out where to put your line breaks.

here

I'm still here.

There has been a lot of me time lately, and a lot of time with family.