I succeeded in sleeping in this morning, until almost 8:30 am. It mattered less that I also woke basically every two hours during the night, or that I was awake for two hours, sometime around midnight, than that I was able to simply keep sleeping until the thought of being awake no longer seemed like a compromise of my most basic self-care. I was up for a couple of hours. I watched some entertaining videos. I scrolled through Facebook. I showered and handled basic hygiene and self-care tasks (most easily accomplished while I am awake).

I went back to bed, and slept through much of the afternoon, waking more or less around tea time, which is to say, around 3pm. I woke a number of times, but a quick check on my consciousness found me choosing more sleep, each time, until this last time, when I chose, at last, to wake and even to get up. I had to pee. Not getting up wasn’t really an option. I didn’t go back to bed, but mostly only because I didn’t want more sleep any more than I wanted to be awake, and since I was already awake, and up, I simply decided to continue along that path awhile. lol I’m not terrifically engaged with the moment, the fire of my natural presence flickers. Clearly I am ill. So… a fresh cup of hot tea. A new moment. I am on auto-pilot, and only barely truly awake. I am uncertain where the evening may take me.

I am hungry. The amount of work involved in feeding myself doesn’t seem at all appealing. The sorts of foods I could order? Don’t seem at all appealing. So. Here I sit. Hungry and doing nothing whatsoever about it. Thinking about taking action on the food thing, I find myself contemplating going back to bed instead… I would not notice any feelings of hunger if I were asleep… It would be easier.

I sip my tea. It is hot, bland, basically flavorless. I’m sick and nothing tastes good, really. I think about how easily I could heat up some chicken soup, though… Chicken soup, with Rick & Morty… or chicken soup with Archer… or chicken soup with Harry Potter, South Park, or Samurai Champloo… or chicken soup with a favorite book… I chuckle when I realize that I am more interested in the chicken soup itself than any accompanying entertainment. Okay, okay – chicken soup then. No problem. I’ve got plenty made. I find myself feeling somewhat buoyed by the thought of rich hot broth, chunks of chicken meat, veggies stewed in the flavorful broth, buckwheat noodles…

I lift myself from my chair with some awkwardness and stiffness. I barely notice the pain I am in, moment-to-moment, because flu symptoms suck so much, but there it is, when I move. I stand with some difficultly, and wait a few seconds to be sure of my balance, before making my way to the kitchen. Chicken soup won’t heat itself. lol One obvious downside to living alone; I’ve always got to be the one fetching tissues or mugs of tea, or heating up the soup. 🙂