What a difference five days make. When I left here last week to enter the hospital, my yard was still cloaked in grays and browns. A little warmth and a bit of rain have transformed the place into a lush green landscape punctuated with pink blossoms, arching forsythia and the occasional daffodil and hyacinth. For the first time in years, the dogwood is actually blooming. In contrast, I was a picture of rosy health last week, and am now reduced to a barren landscape.
I'm parked on my chaise longue feeling like a slug, and probably not looking much better than one. On one hand, the toxins are exiting my body; on the other, my counts are dropping and I feel listless and unmotivated. I have surrounded myself with heady reading material. Even if I fail to turn a page, I am among books I hope will lend me the gravitas I currently lack.
Kafka on the Shore is providing me with gruesome scenes involving cat decapitation and quirky plot twists. I have no idea where this book is going, but it's certainly surprising. In the What Was I Thinking Category, I ordered Infinite Jest from the library, a 1000+ page footnoted tome I've been planning to read for some time. Now that I have the luxury of huge blocks of time waiting to be shaped and managed, I hope to finally tackle this heavy book. And I do mean heavy. I can barely lift it.
Time for a nap.