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So, I returned home from California and promptly got extremely sick. Yay. California was great. It was nice to get away by myself and not have much of an agenda in the slightest. I wish I could do it again this weekend. Even more amazing was getting to see my cousin, Patrick, after so many years. To be able to see him live out one aspect of his dream was so humbling. His concert was wonderful, and his CD is fantastic. I really hope that it somehow takes off for him. It is so overwhelming to think about all that will have to happen for it really to come to fruition—just like me thinking about my novels getting published.

I have laid on the couch for two days, sweating and sweating. Fun. I hate being sick, one just because it doesn’t feel good to be sick, however what is just as bad is that my brain quits working. I can’t write, I can’t read, I can’t do anything overly creative or useful. I hate doing nothing. Complain, complain, complain. And since I’m on the complain rampage, I’ll put this out there as well—this is my first time being really sick since the life change in April. He was always so amazing when I was sick. I miss sharing life with him. However, I’ve been pretty numb the past couple weeks, which is a good change.