I am sick.
I have been drinking pots of throat-coat tea.
I went outside and pulled water-onions out of the grass. It was warm and that was highly satisfying.
I’ve come back in and am sitting on the couch. I’m reading Riddley Walker, which is a sort of science fiction (I guess) book by the author of the Frances the badger books.
It’s written in some strange sort of dialect which is really difficult to read and takes place in post-apocalyptical England.
I think I’m liking it more than I thought I would — but it’s possible that it requires more concentration that I can muster in my current state.
Maybe I need a nap.