my sister turned to me last night and spelled out a personal theory of hers
that detailed why i am sick so frequently.
i work too much and play (read: sleep) too little.
i think she's a bright girl, that one.
adam lovingly keeps stroking my hair through all of this, this third sickness in two weeks,
and muttering a few sentences to me,
one of which keeps sounding like "you look so pitiful, wife"
but i think every time he says it he actually means "you look so beautiful, wife".
i think his tongue is just making a silly mistake there.
it must be.
i mean... look at me (only an eye roll of this proportion seems appropriate here).
i tried to fix my hair over the weekend in an effort to boost my spirits,
but i think it's gotten so used to being a web of tangled curls
that it doesn't know how to do anything else anymore.
bed head suits some people,
alas... i am not one of them.
but i think this sickness will go away soon
because the laws of fairness dictate that i've done my time for my crimes
long enough to last me the rest of the winter.
at least i hope so.