Sick in Bed

Well, its official: I am ill. No, not ill as in the seminal Beastie Boys lp Licensed to Ill (by the way, in the Fight for Your Right video, Adam Horovitz wears a phys. ed. shirt from my high school). I mean, I am seriously sick. No, not Sikh as in a member of the faith tradition founded by Guru Nanak in the 16th century. Whatever, you get my point.

It started the day before yesterday with a soar throat that got progressively more painful. Then yesterday morning I woke up with the distinct feeling that my body had been repeatedly run over by a big Indian TaTa truck. I spent most of the day in bed, oscillating between being unconscious and coughing my throat red.

Determined to get better, I have committed myself to a potent chemical cocktail of Dimetapp, Vitamin C (as opposed to Vitamin-C who sang the mildly annoying Graduation Song), Grapefruit Seed Extract, and chyavanpraash (however you spell it).

Incidentally, for those of you looking for the Krishna conscious purport to all of this, I'm not sure that I'm up to the job. I find that with every cough, drip, and ache, I just identify more with this body. I guess this is also an important part of life in the material world: having to own up to the fact that ultimately this material body is pretty embarassing. Nothing deflates an ego quite like a steady stream of snot dripping from one's nose. Perhaps this is the Good Lord's way of forcing me to slow down, or be humble, or maybe just to take better care of my body.

Today is some mild improvement, but I'm still mainly hanging out in bed (who knew that laptops could actually be used on one's lap) . Hopefully in an hour or so (if I am feeling up to it)I will try to get some work done. And if I get anything accomplished, I guess we can call it Ill Communication.

sniffle,
V