My sister used to love watching Monty Python movies, and one of her favorite parts is this scene from the Holy Grail flick:
I’ve been really sick this past week, and I always think of the above scene when I’m in this state. I’m talking the kind of sick where normal daily activities come to a grinding halt, where I devolve into a do-nothing wearing yesterday’s pajamas, sucking tea into my Sudafed-induced cotton-mouth, accumulating fantastic mounds of used Kleenex all over the house and a thin layer of fuzz on my teeth. I’m hoarse. My chest hurts. And I fear I’m on some sort of government watch list, having signed my name to the Pseudoephedrine Registry one too many times this week. I keep saying, “I think I’m turning a corner!” (my version of “But I’m not dead yet!) and then I wake up feeling like someone has spent the whole night shoving tampons into my nose so far that they touch the back of my skull. That kind of sick.
This is my long way of explaining why my blog has been collecting dust this past week. There’s just no room left for creativity in the spaces between my swollen sinuses (and, of course, all good writing comes from the spaces between my sinuses). I’ll be back soon. Don’t throw me off with the corpses. I’m not dead yet!