The March Hare

That's right. I'm sick. I was sick for Christmas. Last night I had a fever, and when the fever side of it finally hit after hours of chills, I was actually happy.

Because I am sick I have been absolutely non-productive today. Even though on Friday I had a scathingly brilliant idea about how to make my first novel readable again, so that I can maybe get on with my new one, I have not lifted a finger. Instead, I have watched 'Jeeves and Wooster: Season Two', 'Rock Star' with Mark Wahlberg, and 'Grease', which I had been proud to say was a movie I had never seen from end to end. Until today.

The problem with my sickness is that only my head is affected. The rest of me feels perfectly normal, but, because my head sometimes gets swimmy and has a general malaise, I am totally worthless. The healthy remainder is wasted underneath a hot pink furry blanket on the couch. Because my head refuses to cooperate, I had to ask Clurg to toast a bagel for me, something I am generally quite happy to do on my own.

Plus, the excess and zeal others showed me in their Christmas gift-giving made me feel like a giant, poor, Christmas heel. I will never measure up to the gift-giving of others.

Boohoohoo.