Leftoverdone

I guess Friday's frustration was substantial enough to carry over into the weekend. I'm sure I was a joy to be around, maybe even more so than I was at work. Add to that enough sinus drainage to fill the bathtub and I had a recipe for a category 5 stomach storm.

I've been so tired of being so sick for so long that I forgot what it was like to be well.

I know I can't give up hope that some day I'll be past all this but days like these tend to drag on, getting heavier and harder to bear by the hour.

Thank God for the night.

Sometimes it really does the trick and resets everything back to tolerable levels. Sometimes it just puts things on hold as if it believes that I'd want nothing more than to pick them up right where I left them off. Even if I could tell it what my preference might be I'd have to first figure out what it is.

Superficially I can say that I don't want to hold on to things, that I know how harmful it can be to let them fester, but I know myself. I like to make sure that I don't forgo a single bite of any meal I've paid for, even if it means reheating it the next day. Lately, however, I've found myself forgetting the takeaway boxes when we leave restaurants, and somehow forgetting to care that something I paid for is going to be thrown away.

Maybe I could try that with my psychic leftovers. They're really not that savory on the second day.