I haven’t been as good at posting everyday lately.

It seems time has sped up on me again, stealing the breath from my chest as it runs away, like a mugger with a purse, while I look on helplessly.

I cling to the edges of the day, waking at one, then two, then three, thinking it’s time to get up but rolling over once the time becomes apparent and I close my eyes again.

I check in on patient after patient with respiratory symptoms, feeling the suspicious tickle in my throat as I try not to cough. I’m not sick, I promise myself, on Friday at noon.

But I know the truth.

Friday is my usual day to catch things, so that I don’t have to be too sick to work during the week.

My body is considerate like that.

Or perhaps I just have a chance to know how bad I feel.

I feed us a combination of appetizers for supper,

not sure if I’m even hungry or not.

As I roll into bed with my eyes thick with sleep, I am grateful, as always, to have a soft, warm place to sleep and recoup, perhaps to regain my health before Monday returns with its usual demands