22 deg and rising

I turned the thermostat down to 67 from 69, a small step, but one which will hopefully bring the outside and the inside closer together. I was so sick when the temperature popped up to twenty that I thought holy hell, I’ve caught something when really it was the old inability to regulate screwing with my head. Just as I thought I was fine, living in the land of below-zero Fahrenheit, I wasn’t. This morning I am better. It is the second day in the twenties. Last night there was Eleven to help me sleep and this morning, when we woke to our alarms (twice), I noticed my stomach had quit lurching, so I supposed I had better stay in bed and rest as long as I could.

And I did. And I got up only when Bodie decided I’d rested long enough. Bless him, most mornings like this he only lets me sleep til eleven or so, at which point I crawl back into bed and try for another two hours, but this time he waited until nearly one, or thirteen, depending how you count it (I use both).

You have never read the story of Anna as told by Fynn and you must, for it is rare and beautiful, even if like old John D you are not much for God. Last night I felt myself as cosy as Anna tucked in beside Fynn, talking through all the things burdening my mind until I had no burdens left. Then I slept without dreaming of the same old horrible things.

You have never read the story of Fania as told by Fania and you will, because that’s the only voice I can think of now. I’ve just finished Elizabeth Wein’s Rose Under Fire. Now I can’t fathom Fania not speaking up for herself in her privation. And it will not be Nuclear Winter anymore but some other title, because it isn’t a story about the Bomb, just about a different world after a country has torn itself into many pieces. It must always be Fania’s voice, and by turning down the thermostat I am turning in her direction, which is one where you get used to the cold after a time, though you heat your house as best you can using wood stoves and fireplaces. I did play Monopoly with the power off, you know, and felt the house cooling degree by degree. I know I can survive a night with it off. I wonder if bringing myself closer to Fania will make my fear of no power fade?

I have taken Advil and maybe later I will try a Pepsi. Maybe. I have to be gentle with my stomach. I almost had Ramen for supper last night, but we discovered it was past its date by a year and more, so I didn’t risk it. I made a sandwich instead. Hell, that was probably more nourishing. Too bad. When I’m sick I want gentle things, and Ramen has always been gentle. But I think the Pepsi will be sooner rather than later a) because of caffeine withdrawal (me!) and b) because it makes the Advil better somehow, and my sinuses too. I’m not as lurchy today because something in there is clearing. I’d like to try keeping it that way.

I screamed out my wrath and sorrow at H. in my sleep; in my dream he had moved on to date one of my old classmates, Lucy, which would be a brilliant match when I think about it. I just couldn’t be rational about it while dreaming. I also dreamed a boy I knew had married a girl named Kate and had a baby daughter. He is older than I am by a year or so. It could have happened already. Since he is unlikely to ever love me as my child-self loved him, I want for him this Kate and this child. I want for him the family life he deserves. I know how to love like my child-self still.

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