Have the worst flu since, well, since the last time which was years and years ago. I never get sick.
I don't doubt for an instant that this constitutes a stern telegram, or a text message rather, from the universe warning, “All is not well with you, young 'un.”
A recent dunking in the fastrushing River of Luurve, has given my wobbly-legged newborn life a bad dose of total drippiness. Chills, coughing my heart out, chest pain, bouts of weepies...
Who'da thunk it could come to this?
The vexing thing is that three months ago I had earned a certain degree of hard-won emotional equilibrium. Now here I lurch, slugging cough mixture and self medicating with CorenzaC like one undone.
Yet still I'm overcome at times by waves of gratitude for the experience and the deep knowing about which Tom Waits sings so wonderfully,
"You Can Never Hold Back Spring"
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