I made it through the first hour of work today, but that was all. This nasty little head-cold has me beat. No matter how many times I wash my hands at work, I seem to pick up every cold and flu that walks through the doors of the library. Certainly this is a result of my compromised immune system, but no less annoying.
The cold medicine I am taking makes everything a bit dreamlike. My choice of media today -- Paul Auster's "In the Country of Last Things" and Taika Waititi's "Eagle vs. Shark" -- added to it, no doubt. Zen slept next to me most of the day and evening. My eyes are dry and my nose won't stop running, and yet I am confident that with rest and vitamins and sleep I will be better tomorrow.
For clarification, yesterday's poem wasn't about anything in particular. I saw that first line in my junk email folder, and the rest happened without much thought. It was slightly influenced by my affection for "Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind" and "Vanilla Sky".