When you're really feeling bad, so bad you don't have the energy to think about food or brush your teeth, it's hard to imagine you'll ever feel better. But I really do. I'm back at work, going full steam, trying to make up for time lost. I started today with a doctor's appt.--I'm better but not 100% over it; not contagious however so I can go to Houston this weekend. Went to the office and then to meet old and dear friends for lunch--he was my ex-husband's trainer when Joel was a resident and then his senior partner. Years ago I told Connie that when I was a single parent I always had the feeling Russ was looking over my shoulder and would take care of me, and she said he would have. I remember as a resident's wife I was sort of scared of him or intimidated or something, but now we're old friends. We laughed a lot--and were quite honest about some people we've known--and when I ordered the twice-baked potato, Russ changed his order and said he'd have that too, and that's what we all three ended up with. Halfway through the meal, Russ looked at Connie and said "What am I eating?" Connie is a wonderful caretaker but quite forthright with him, as when she said, "Neither one of us know what you're talking about." They're moving to a northern suburb to be near their son next week, so I was particularly glad for today's luncheon--I'll see them again but not as often as I have. It's funny to think how relationships grow and change over the years--maybe as I've grown and changed and become my own person.
After lunch though, boy, was I ready for my nap. John said to me tonight that pneumonia will do that to you, so I immediately began to worry about getting worn out at our family get-together in Houston for Easter. But I think I'll just beg off whenever I need to.
Tonight I cooked for myself for the first time in two weeks or longer--stuffed a zucchini with the core of the zucchini, bread crumbs, sauteed onion and celery, and then put cheese on it to bake. Pretty good, and for once I didn't overcook the zucchini until it was mushy--this was almost crisp enough to need a knife.
Two days ago I wrote in a frenzy on my novel--ideas kept tumbling out of my fingers. But last night I only wrote a dull little piece that covered some necessary business--a funeral. But I have ideas percolating in my mind, and I guess I'll just have to let them percolate. In a way, nearing the end of the novel, I'm afraid--afraid of how to work it all out, afraid of the word count, just downright intimidated. But I am distracting myself with a J.A.Jance novel I hadn't read before.
I'm so glad I live in the technological age--my oldest granddaughter sent me a text message today about whether or not I as getting rid of my convertible. I guess her dad told her I thought, maybe for a day, that I'd get a Smart Car. But I loved writing back and forth with her. Have a few texting questions to ask the cyber folks this weekend--like is message length limited?
Oh, it may be time for another nap!