The wind howled all night and rain pounded against the windows. I heard it when the coughing woke me up, but I didn’t mind being awakened as I might have missed the rain, one of my favorite sounds. The howling wind was a bonus. It could have been from the soundtrack of an old black and white horror movie, like The Werewolf.
Yesterday morning I called my friend of over forty years, and he thought I was a guy named Paul. That was it for me. I called the doctor. They wanted me in right away. I think my coughing during the phone call worked to great effect. Come to find out my cold has morphed into bronchitis and was working its way toward pneumonia. I’m on all sorts of stuff right now which should make me sound far less like Paul and more like me.
It’s still windy and rainy. I had to convince Gracie to go out this morning then I ran for the papers and yesterday’s mail which was still in the box. The mail was boring. I have to get Gracie’s license today. It is, of course, the very last day to get it without an extra fee. I like living on the edge!
At the doctor’s they told me I needed to rest. I almost laughed out loud. Rest is my middle name. I love a good afternoon nap.
Because I haven’t seen anyone or been anywhere, my life has no new stories and no new people. I communicate entirely by phone. I spend the day reading and relaxing. I know, I know, a really tough way to while away the day. I’ve been reading David Baldacci, The Forgotten, and I like it. I stretch out on the couch with my afghan covering me and my dog beside me. If I weren’t sick, I’d think my life idyllic.
The rain has stopped, and the sun is out. The sky is mostly blue. I can still hear the wind, and through my window I can see the swaying branches of the oak and pine. It looks like a pretty day.
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