I spent most of yesterday feeling very ill indeed. I was fine in the morning, and rallied myself for a walk to the grocery store after lunch so that I could at least get outside for a little bit. I sat and read on a bench, stopped in a few stores, people watched. The usual. I even managed to leave the grocery store with more or less what I needed, although I’m still not sure what happened to the bag of apples I bought.

Later on though, I took a definite downturn. At one point, I walked into the office thinking I’d picked up my blue kleenex pack from the bedside table, when in reality I’d picked up the tin of Nivea hand cream, which was also blue. Duh. Clearly my brain is quite addled, which made what little work I managed to do yesterday rather challenging. Soon I gave up altogether, and spent the rest of the evening half-deliriously reading or watching TV.

It’s amazing, humbling even, to be reminded of just how much disruption a tiny little virus can create in our seemingly powerful, invincible bodies. Even the slightest increase in temperature can reduce a normally sharp mind to idiocy, creating abject misery in the meantime. What fragile beings we are!

I realize though that I am creating an unfortunate feedback loop here: I only rest when physically forced to do so. Thus my body learns that when it needs to rest, it has to get very sick. Hmm. Perhaps I should learn to rest before that happens. You think?

To prove that point, after getting nine hours of sleep last night, I’m feeling slightly better this morning. My usual tendency when that happens is to jump right back into doing things normally, but since rest seems to be doing me some good, I might try it for another day. I may even skip the gym. Again. What a concept.