For the last four days I have been in bed. The flu got hold of me big time, my body temperature is extremely low (it always happens to me), I have a headache, a cough, and every bone in my body feels broken. I am not complaining though. My articles have been completed for my Lithuanian paper. All the work is almost done. I am finally completing the tasks that I was supposed to do weeks ago. Still I feel like death warmed up.
Usually I am one of those people that once I get the sense of achievement or at least satisfaction, I become happier and relax, not tis time though. I am so tense that I feel I might explode any moment now.
This could be due to my nasty cough or just the feeling of being late for everything has become daunting. However I try to stay optimistic and tonight I am going to occupy myself with grand cooking ideas to please myself. I simply love putting beautiful and delicious food on the plate for my husband, it makes me happy just to watch him eat.
If my cooking escapades will not work I will watch another episode of Hornblower to cheer me up, then do some more work. I am one of those idiots that are petrified of the flu coming back, this maybe the reason why I spent so much time snuggled up in bed. I'd rather take a week off and recover than push it to the limits and get it really serious.
Graham has lit the fire today, as this is the first day he felt fit enough in the last two weeks to get out of the bedroom. Before I would light the fire (I know wonderful rural life sans central heating) and try getting the house to be a little warmer. It feels like a mausoleum regardless.
I also discovered in the last couple of days, that the best things I write, are usually only one paragraph long and written in haste. This makes the whole writing business rather weird because it does NOT happen every five minutes, but more likely twice a week, if I should apply this technique for writing novels I may complete my first novel in English in about twenty years... but then, who's in a hurry?
So now after spending a few hours out of my "bedlock" I intend to go back. Rest. I feel so sleepy and there is that cooking to do. My to do list is getting longer by the minute along with the tiredness occupying my body.
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2 comments:
I hope you recover soon. I don't like being sick either. I don't know which is worse, the colds that are never full blown but malinger forever, or those that knock me off my feet for a few days. Either way, life is not very liveable.
I think it is difficult to write long sustained pieces. As well, short pieces tend to be economical in their use of language (which is what writing is supposed to be - get the idea out, don’t waste energy on verbiage).
I'm sorry to hear that you are not feeling well. Please take care of yourself. I know how miserable being ill is though. I'm sure you want to get up and be productive rather than lying in bed aching.
I too find it difficult to write "long sustained pieces," as Richard said. Those blips of thoughts seem far more brilliant to me than any editorial pieces I've had to pull out of myself. However, unlike Richard, I tend to prefer lengthy prose when I do write. I am certainly not economical in my language usage and never have been but I just don't write fluid pieces, at least not right now. :)
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