Being sick gives me a chance to catch up on my reading.

For the last two afternoons (and probably again today), I laid my feverish body on a futon in front of the heater, covered myself with a feather duvet and read until I fell asleep. I've made it through one really bad military thriller and have almost finished an interesting book called "A Return to Modesty" which espouses that sexual modesty and "waiting until after marriage" is not the weird, bad thing people think, but is advantageous in the extreme. (It's a little too late for me, but the ideas are interesting nonetheless.)

I'm hoping that my ill body decides to feel better today. I really hate being so out of it. And, believe it or not, I'm getting tired of reading.