The joys of middle age, again
Winter is coming on, and, because it has become an annual ritual, once again I'm in the middle of my customary 2 months of being deathly ill in Portland. *sigh* There's just something about being sick, sick, sick, and more sick (punctuated with three days of being well, but something happened which took all of the joy out of that) that really makes me appreciate -- in a bad way -- mortality.
No, there's no pithy commentary here. I'm just whining. And there's probably more where that comes from.