Wednesday, February 6
YEAR: 2019 | John Truby | sofa | Sunshine
Living room, 12:37
I slept all night and woke at 5:30. I drank a lot of water, went back to sleep, and woke again when Irma did.
One thermometer later and I had my official morning temperature: 37.87˚. I felt much better but I still had fever.
I sat watching the snow coming down heavily and filling in the paths I made last weekend. I had promised Irma that I would stay inside and get better, so I moved my haalari to where I couldn’t see it, and looked away from the window.
I declared today reading day and slowly started the work of rereading John Truby’s book The Anatomy of Story in order to create a series of short online lectures which I will use in Period 4.
At 12:30 I decide that a shower might freshen me up and please anyone who has to come into contact with me today.
Sunshine insists on going out, which he flatly refused to do earlier when the snow fell. I go for a shower, get dried, see him outside waiting for me to spot him, and let him in. He climbs straight on the sofa, rolls around, and goes to sleep.
I will carry on reading and then clean the house as I had promised this morning.
A few paracetamol later, the house will look clean and my temperature will look normal.
Irma will arrive home sometime after eight, stressed and tired. She will want space and I will gladly retire to bed.