July 4, 2017 (Tuesday)

by Yule Heibel on July 3, 2018

So now I, too, am sick with this China bug A. imported via R., and it’s an ugly fucker. I can feel it chiseling its way into my sinuses, not to mention that my throat feels like pavement that’s been graded / abraded in preparation for repaving with hot tar. The top part of my chest felt yesterday like there was a removals crew in there hauling out all the furniture. I think A. powered through this in a much more formidable way, driven no doubt by his need to get the [prototype] built. Good for him. I feel slightly more “normal” when I come down here for my morning purpose(s) – meditation, writing my morning pages – but trying to get comfortable last night was an impossible challenge, and I lost track of how many times I was awake.

There’s nothing like getting sick to make you appreciate being healthy. There’s nothing like getting older to make you appreciate youth. Oh, the energy, the drive… Sure, you still have that to a compelling extent when you’re older, it’s not like you roll over and die or sit in a corner all day. But there’s a level of strength that comes with youth, which sort of ebbs away a bit. I suppose this speaks also to the importance of physical education, sport, weight and strength training in youth, because that gives you a much better foundation later. I’m glad I’ve always kept up. But today I’m taking it easy. I’m breaking out in a sweat just sitting here, writing.

Yesterday I had a ton of laundry to dispatch (linens), ironing, too. At one point in the afternoon, before ironing, A. and I drove up to Gloucester, hoping to combine a seaside walk with a Market Basket grocery run. No such luck in re. walk. All of Gloucester was already in Fourth of July mode, the town was mobbed with way too many cars (and no parking spaces left), and residents had lined every major street with chairs hauled from patios and dining rooms, in anticipation, I suppose, of a parade or something. Anyway, we doubled back, went to Market Basket (which was also pretty slammed), and drove home; put groceries away and took a walk to D.-St. beach. A. wanted to continue to I.-Park, but I couldn’t handle it, what with that moving crew throwing boxes and crates around in my chest. We walked home, passing a group of young middle-aged fellows on the Common who wanted to start a conversation with us for which I was in no mood by then. It involved some “theory” they had about singing trees, that’s what I heard. A. humored them for about a minute before catching up with me. I got home, sweat-soaked from the heat and probably a fever, and lay on the floor for about twenty minutes before finishing up the ironing production. Luckily, dinner was easy, clean up not too onerous. W. was still acting the walking dead, he’s a day “ahead” of me with this bug. Of course in his case it won’t try to settle in his sinuses.

Gods, what a boring entry… I wish there were a button I could press to delete this bug, or give its code a rewriting it’ll never forget. Doesn’t work that way, sadly.

So it’s the Fourth of July today, we aren’t going anywhere or hosting anything (given our health at the moment, I can only add, “thank god!”), and have no plans. I’m seriously considering getting back into bed.

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