Dear Diary

I have a terrible cold.  I blame everyone who lives in New York, or has passed through in the last week.  Also everyone in Connecticut, where I spent the weekend visiting friends and seeing my mother for Mother’s Day.  Whoever did this to me, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

During my brief Sudafed windows I have gone to my studio.  I’ve been thinking about what to start making now that my Spring term is over.  These are potentially the works that will make up my Thesis Show next January.  So like a little squirrel, I sneak into SVA and drop off props and supplies ($100 for a block of hot-pressed paper – kill me now) like little acorn trophies.  And then sneak out again.

I have been to the grocery store and the drug store.  Briefly.  I’m sorry, World, but a cold is not a good enough reason for me to starve to death.  However I took strong measures (hand sanitizer) and didn’t touch anything that I wasn’t going to keep.  And I kept my head averted and spoke as little as possible because I sound like I’ve been swallowing swords. This plague ends with me!

I’m using up tissues at an alarming rate, while reminding myself each time I touch one that I can’t give myself the cold I already have.  I watched a Property Brothers marathon on HGTV yesterday and wondered why the house I most wanted to live in was furnished with Salvation Army rehabbed pieces (gorgeous fabric from 40s dishtowels) while my apartment is black and white, sleek and Mies.  Who AM I?

I have a new knitting project, so complicated that no one will ever find my mistakes.  And I’m working on making 1000 origami cranes (I sort of know the story, it doesn’t matter, I’m just keeping my hands busy between sneezes).  So far I have 14.

I am even contemplating updating my art scrapbook, in which I keep track of the various stages of the work I’m making.  I’m not sure if it’s for posterity, or just for my pending senility, but it was required when I was a senior at Lyme Academy and I’ve kept the habit. Scrapbooking.  The very word screams desperation.

It is day four of my cold.  Day One was the horrible sore throat.  Day Two was the transition between throat and abundant snot.  Day Three was sneezing and coughing.  Day Four: am I starting to get better, or am I just overdosing on cold medication?

There is so much work I should be doing, but my neurons are having a little trouble firing through the congestion in my head.  Luckily a cold is like a power outage.  It is inconvenient and habit-changing, and the minute it’s over we quickly give thanks and forget it ever happened.


2 thoughts on “Dear Diary

    • Nah – I don’t blame you. You’ve been sick forever. And I think we have different things wrong. I’m sticking with my original thought: a nefarious commuter of some sort spreading germs profligately.

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