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sick, but acting healthy
Wednesday, December 17 2025
So as not to disturb Grethen overnight, I'd slept on the couch in the teevee room, which is more comfy than the beanbag in the laboratory, and when you're sick, little comforts are important. At some point in the night I could tell I must've had a fever, because I'd been having fever dreams, which only happen when I am running a fever. These dreams typically are dominated by geometries that stand in for other elements in a more normal dream. Since I have been thinking so much about microcontrollers of late, there were shapes in there that seemed to represent numerous instances of those, and they swirled about, forming walls of perfection when certain parameters aligned. Later I awoke and heard the quiet version of the sound of a dog barfing. It was Charlotte, and she'd produced a couple large logs the size and shape of large human feces (or perhaps small bananas). They soon filled the teevee room with an unpleasant sour smell, so I scooped them up with a dustpan, chucked them out into the snow, and went back to sleep.
When I later got up off the couch, I was surprised to find that I felt pretty good. I had it in me to do various little chores and even to dig some pieces of bucked firewood out of the snow near the bottom of the Woodshed Path and carry it home in my arms (I didn't use the backpack). One such piece still needed to be cut with the chainsaw, and it was heavy enough that I could feel I was perhaps overexerting my sickened lungs as I carried it up the steep Woodshed Path to the woodshed area.
Later I even made my usual spaghetti dinner, this time cooking broccoli with the pasta. I tried to take Charlotte for a walk at least once, but she and Neville continued to be distracted by something over in A's field that I had yet to find.
When she came home from the bookstore, Gretchen was surprised at how much I'd been able to accomplish while supposedly sick. But by later this evening I started feeling like perhaps I should've rested instead; I could feel my body draining of what little health it had left in it. Gretchen had bought orange and grapefruit juice, and I tried the latter but it did something unpleasant to my throat, suggesting there were already tiny injuries there that would inevitably lead to a sore throat. I'd been hoping perhaps I'd missed such unpleasantness with this illness.
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