Edited to add: Oh, my gosh. This makes it all worthwhile. So much; so much indeed.

****** 

Sickness has struck our home this week.

It began in the early hours of Monday morning, when Keira appeared at my bedside and demanded that we turn the air-conditioning on. As it’s mid-autumn here now, that request made as much sense as sipping coffee would if you were lost in the desert.

Then I felt her fever; then I felt Riley’s later that morning when his cheeks had an unnatural yet utterly adorable rosy glow. Then I had a moment, sat down, and took stock of the way I was feeling also and decided we wouldn’t be leaving the house that day.

Our comforts are so much more comforting when we’re bodily addled. I am one of those annoying people who gets up in the morning, gets dressed immediately, down to the shoes, ready to face the day. This week, I’ve clung to my bathrobe the same way the kids have to certain blankets. Odd for Riley, who’s never shown a preference before.

So we stay indoors. The windows remain closed. We breathe recycled air and pretend we don’t notice the fetidness; until my husband arrives home and waves a hand in front of his nose and we can no longer deny our stink.

I’m sure if I could bother, I could drag the archives for similar descriptions I’ve written of this setting before. Perhaps those of you who’ve known me long enough will be able to remember anyway. The difference this time is this:

As I’ve been working on book business lately, and thinking about it even more, and some other stuff is happening too, all these are adding to the overall stress I’m feeling, which is making me feel flattened; muted. Unlike myself.

This will be an open-ended post because I am feeling rather open-ended at the moment; like one of those residential buildings you see ravaged after a cyclone, where walls have been destroyed and any onlooker can peek in at what (used) to pass as normal.

So we’re passing as best as ‘normal’ as we can this week.