In the throes of my continuing and miserable illness—it's mono, did you know that?—the following things have occurred:
1) Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett died on the same day. Somehow, this made perfect sense to me.
2) Iran turned into a different country.
3) My friends forced me to go to the doctor, made me chicken soup and drove my kids back and forth to their camps every day.
4) I cried for no reason (although maybe items 1, 2, and 3 had something to do with it).
5) I finished a book called The Twelve Kingdoms, Volume 1 Sea of Shadow, which as far as I can tell is some sort of novelized, YA anime. Thoroughly enjoyable in a mindless, I-have-a-raging-fever-and-a-goiter-on-my-neck kind of way. It's seven volumes in all; I think I'll bring the next one to the lake.
6) Alone in the house all day yesterday, I watched Sense and Sensibility, something I can't remember, and what I believe was almost the entire season of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. About the latter (which I have never seen before) I can only shake my head in bewilderment, for it was truly disturbing. Those shows should be referred to as "Alternate Reality" not "Reality." And yet I could not make myself change the channel or even get up to vomit. Later, after the family returned home and the kids were in bed, the spousal unit and I watched the ethereal Kristin Scott Thomas in I've Loved You For So Long, and the bad memories of botox, "getting my boobies done," and purchasing $103,000 worth of furniture in cash were swept away.
7) I slept. I slept a lot, a lot, a lot. In fact, that's what I'm going to go do right now.