Sculpin

Nice breakfast with the Codex gang this morning. I’m sorry Joy wasn’t there, because I wanted to thank her for the great cards. Thanks, Joy! I love Making Fiends! They are up on our fridge right now, and every time I pass them I mutter, “I am no kind of cake!” and cackle to myself.

I bet the yo-yo competition was great. Too bad it was Saturday, not Sunday. D’oh! Oh, well. Josh and I wandered over to the cat show instead, where we watched the cat agility competition. (It’s not exactly the sheepdog trials. Herding cats is still not easy.) And it may be just as well that we didn’t get to carry out our plans for the afternoon — I was getting pretty significantly pale and tired, and going home early for a nap was a good idea.

I’m heading into Week 4 of feeling extra crummy. I did see the doctor on Friday, for thumping and poking and various examinations, and I don’t appear to have anything bacterial. It seems to be mostly a matter of just hanging in there and not doing anything stupid while my scraggly immune system does its thing. The cabin fever is fierce, but I’m trying to stay good, at least mostly. I know, I know. Rest and fluids. Grrr. And I’ve been doing supta baddha konasana, which is nice when you’ve been spending a lot of time curled up in Potato Bug Pose coughing your lungs out.

At least I have a new haircut and do not look like death warmed over. (Much. Hmph.) It’s sleek and cropped at the neck, but it’s a messy, slightly asymmetrical haystack of hair at the crown. A good deal shorter, in other words. At the rate I’m going, I’ll look like Jean Seberg in Breathless next year, and Mr. Clean the year after.

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