I
didn't go to Mass this Sunday for the first time in a very long time. I was sick, and trying to work myself up for it, but just imagining the drive, and trying to keep my composure for an hour an half made me very anxious. I stayed in bed a lot, sweeping from too cold to broiling hot. My symptoms have been virtually unchanged since Friday, neither improving nor getting noticeably worse. I'm really hoping to be cured when I awaken tomorrow, I have a lot of things on the docket, and I'd like to start this week out well. But -- such is not in my hands, and I'll just have to take things as they come. But I feel like a lazy ass, and I hate that. At least Sunday is supposed to be the day of rest -- I just hope my rest bears fruit.