Notes From Periods Between Throat Coat

I've been sick. Hellishly sore throat. Mild temperature.

Muddled through. It's going around.

But.

I hate being sick.

I hate the loss of control.

I hate coughing so much I pull a muscle.

I hate the feeling that I can't quite swallow.

That my progress ebbs and flows and when I feel I have a good day it is gone by evening when I can barely speak.

Did I mention I hate being sick?

There's a feeling of being trapped inside something you can't control and didn't ask for and don't like.

There's a brisk perception that all solid objects are waiting for you to close your eyes so they can turn into liquids and drip down into messy puddles on the floor.

And then there's always a single song that pops up all over the place, that is playing on every radio station you happen across in your feverish state.

The good news is I'm almost completely better after nearly a week.

The better news is that song was this: