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I have an extremely difficult time motivating myself to write these days. What do you think it is? Atrophy of the brain? Boredom with life? Resignment? Leprosy? I cooked Tom Kha Gai this evening for Loyal and Zuzicka. It was most enjoyable -- especially the response received. At least I can pursuade myself that I am well versed in one non-trivial pursuit.
Otherwise, the day went un-splendidly. I suppose I was mostly recovering from yesterday's attack of hypoglycemia. It was absolutely cruel. I was shaking so badly that I could hardly type. I feared sleeping. I thought I would never wake. Consequently, I lay in bed for most of yesterday forcing myself to not drift into slumber. Though I am sure I did tumble a few times into a semi-unconsciousness. Last night was mostly sleepless, as well. As my illness receded, my doubts and inner sickness concerning my apparent loss of Jana gripped me uncompromisingly. I was terrified -- broken. I spent the most of the night chatting on ICQ (I should have been writing here, instead) with boring asians who thought as little of themselves as I do my health.
I should elaborate on last week. Hm. I shall pause again, however, as the flat once again swarms with shouting people and scurrying cat.
Agur.
@flavigula@sonomu.club
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