Sono Malato
I feel horrid today. For the last week or so, I’ve been waking up feeling drained. I’ve been sleeping well barring the odd moments of waking up, but getting up has been a chore. My head has been spinning, my throat raw, mouth dry, and my chest is rattling. It conspires to make me feel horrid for my birthday. I somehow doubt I’ll be doing anything for it either, now. Bah.
I crave chicken soup, and oddly, red wine. The soup would be a good idea, the red wine, less so. The soup however means I need to get moving and cook as I cannot stand the thought of soup from a can. The wine means I just have to open the bottle, pour, and enjoy.
