Ug. Food poisoning. Fever. 40 hours in bed. My body hurts from lying down for so long. I suffer from chills and boredom.
There may be no better time for me to be ill than now at home with no commitments. Last year, my psychoanalyst advised me to slow down. Soon after, I broke my foot, literally slowing me down. This fever slows me down further: I rest in bed. No job, few possessions, and no sense where I need to be tomorrow. These forty hours of bed rest may be the most stillness I have experience in quite some time. I still don’t like it.