I write this post in the dark, my nose stuffed up, a nasty cough barking out every now and then and aching muscles. Ugh, it’s the flu.
Despite feeling like roadkill I will be going to my therapist appointment later, equipped with tissues, sanitizer and possibly a mask.
Debating discussing my feverish dreams. I usually don’t remember dreams, but the ones I am having in my fitful sleep are interesting to say the least. From my ex fiancee’s girlfriend turning into Ursula from The Little Mermaid to buying a new house with a secret tunnel, they are just plain weird. Maybe they mean something, most likely that the fever cooked my brain.
I feel that illness can often be a sign to slow down, that we push too hard. I am guilty of that for sure. My careful routine to control my bipolar symptoms has gone out the window which has me worried. In any event, just wanted to update you dear readers and remind you to take care of
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