The Dark Moon

I thought it was allergies, but actually what I'm suffering from is a cold. It's not the hideous bubonic flu so many folks had this past winter, just a garden variety cold. It could be worse.

In many ways it seems fitting and proper that the cycle of this moon (formerly known as the eclipsed moon from hell) should end with annoying sinus congestion, a lot of nose blowing, bloodshot eyes and a matted nest of hair. It's my body's way of blowing a big raspberry at this moon, also a bit like cutting off my nose to spite my face. But I didn't do it on purpose - it's just happening this way.

Though I can't work when I'm sick, there are some things about the experience I actually kind of like. A break in my usual routine is always a good thing. Everything that's normal just stops. It's so startling to me, a creature of habit and routine, to understand that the usual can be so easily disrupted. And as long as the cold isn't too serious, there's something kind of nice about looking at the world through the fog of congestion. It's like an old lace curtain that both reveals and conceals.

I've got a Chinese movie and the BBC series about life before the dinosaurs from Netflix - both easy to watch and silly, too. And there's the brand new New Yorker on the coffee table, in case I feel like reading (a little bit harder to do through this lace curtain, but maybe I can just look at the cartoons).

I'll do my part to get over this minor ailment, you know, rest, juice, tea, stupid TV. In so doing, may all the goo that's exiting my nose and eyes take with it the sadness, fear and anxiety I've been carrying around since the eclipse. Please? Thank you! Onwards and upwards.