I Know We Don't Know Each Other

That's what she said to me, my new doctor, after she'd poked around in my throat and ears and nose with various instruments and lighted probes.

She stood back a couple feet and gave me a once over. "I'm just not seeing anything. I know we don't know each other or anything, but you look viral to me. I feel like if I met you when you were feeling better, you're eyes would be brighter than this."

"Yeah," I said. "I don't feel so hot."

"Yeah, you don't look-" she said. And then turned a little red and laughed. She's really quite lovely, so I smiled.

And came home and napped.

Today I'm feeling much better. Better enough that I'm going to go to a Canada Day Brunch, better enough that I *will* make and drink the mango sangria on the front porch with Jennifer, as I have been looking forward to doing for about 5 days now, even though I know it isn't good for me. Better enough to bike to our first delivery of vegetables from the Santa Farmer. Better enough that I'm going to go see my friends' band play in their own living room early this eve.

Not so much better that there won't be a big nap somewhere in there, and it's a pretty safe bet that I'll be appreciating the fireworks aurally, from the comfort of my bed.