Chicken Soup for the Mild Cold

I've not felt so well the last few days. However, this morning, I am feeling considerably better.

Incidentally, on Friday, I nearly called into work because I felt so poorly. However, had I done that, no one would have been there -- everyone else (all two of them) in my department was out as well.

This morning I still didn't feel well, and was awake around 7 am when I could have been sleeping. So I sat up and tried writing a few poems -- including one made of quatrains. When I was twenty, I was OBSESSED with quatrains. They were all I wanted, ever. Now I'm more of an allovertheplace type, but today I revisited that form and wanted to cry a little. It was awful.

But I did it nonetheless. Then I wrote three other drafts which, in my current opinion, are poor. But this is what happens when you write when you feel stale and sick. Sometimes, when you force it, it works out. Not so this morning.

I'm dying to write a story, too, but I'm having some trouble laying one out. I don't know where these people go, what they do. That said, getting out and hearing more is helping to rebuild my confidence, even though I'm listening to others. Not because the work is bad - in fact, it's excellent -- but because others are doing it, too. Does that make sense? I think it does, but my wording is rather poor.

Today is cooking/baking/cleaning day. It was supposed to be yesterday, but I felt too sick to do much of anything.

See you on the other side of my homemade soup.