Down with the Sickness

I’ve been struggling with a self-inflicted illness this week. I over-exerted last Saturday, and then I didn’t drink enough water to recover. I’ve talked about my water issues before. It’s getting worse with age.

I took a four-hour nap yesterday, and I hate myself for it. I need these weekend hours to write.

I worked out this morning, and I’m going to lift this evening. The rest of today, I need to be writing, not screwing around.

It took me two hours to decide on a blog topic. Not fucking kidding. I spent part of that time trying to convince myself that blogging is not a waste of time. Would anyone even miss my biweekly posts? Does anyone care? Why do I torture myself like this?

Writing matters. My message matters. Maybe not this one, but someday, you’re going to think back to one of my mad, rambling posts and think, “Yeah, I like her. I’m going to read her book.”

So today I blogged, even though I’m down with the sickness.

For those of you who prefer “The Sound of Silence,” this is one of my favorite versions:

I also added “Books Read in 2015” to my “Books Read in…” page, if you’re looking for reading material. While laid up, I finished reading three more books this week.