Today I was on my own. Beloved had to go to work. I slept very late, then crawled down to the couch, which Beloved had now dubbed “Command Central.” I had my medicine, my magazines, and my favorite cover down there. I checked my work email. I checked my personal email, and sent a few. I really felt in pretty fine fettle.
I slept. I read. I took my medicine. I talked to my sister. I slept. I ate. I slept. Beloved arrived home and I was feeling so well that I suggested we order pizza for dinner. This was another bad idea.
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