Cut Down By The Creeping Crud

I have so much to write. So much to do. So many thoughts in my head. So many projects to attend to after my “vacation.” And here I am, cut down in my prime.

I don’t know if it is the flu, or a cold, or a virus, or bad salami, or psychic distress, or simply July, but I feel like crud. It has been coming on for days and now I have no choice but to succumb to the fatigue, nausea, achy-ness and defeated Drooopy Dog-ness of it all.

I took a nap yesterday, went to bed early, slept in this morning and still all I want to do is sleep. And moan piteously. Surely the God of Feeling Like Crap will hear my feeble cries.

There is a spiritual element of being sick, in which all things are reduced to their most basic forms and the world suddenly seems simple and puke green. But I am too tired to write about it today. I am violently yawning as I write this and me bed is singing a siren song of soft snores.

Actual content will return to this blog once the plague has passed.