I never thought I'd say this

But Sontag was right: disease is not sexy.

I've been bowled over by this flu for almost a week now and only this afternoon have I reclaimed taste and free air, though this new awareness only makes me recoil from the smells of illness. A sick body is not a welcoming body though I did feel a little incandescent in the beginning due to the dull and duly burning fevers. I drank a river dry and sucked at the stones at bottom. It was little use. I began to worry that my blankets would not forget those vapors once those in my head cleared.

My fingernails felt too long and transparent, obstructively, lightly tapping on everything harmless. And what shall I answer to the man on Friday? I haven't cobbled anything together from the archives--what sort of platform will I pull myself along on at this techtonic rate? A hole-ridden one that lacks the charm of a much loved but rotten rug where the family dog had affectionately lain for years, reluctant to leave the bald spots.

God I wish I had a pet. A cat. No, a kitten. No, just peace.