Still breathing.

The funny swelling over my eye has gone down considerably. I'm down to *only* coughing constantly and dealing with a stopped-up nose, so I'm in a much better mood.

The catbox got cleaned while I was congested.

No real knitting has been done, nor have I made any progress on anything other than finding some stellar reading material (the stellar qualities of which are probably Sudafed-induced).

I have new issues of a quilting mag and a cross stitch mag and I spent quite some time looking at the pretty colors.

I plan today to, maybe, do some laundry, be sure to eat at least two meals, and get some more sleep.

Lost, lost, lost.

I'm afraid I don't feel comfortable writing out the specifics here, so you're just going to have to deal with it like this.

Right now I'm very sad because of some things that are lost.

Some of them are things that never really belonged to me in any way, they were really only on loan.

Some of them are things that I thought I had, but didn't; yet I'm sad because I've discovered what was true all along.

Nel mezzo del cammin de nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
ché la diritta via era smarrita...

(In the middle of the path of our life, I found myself in a wood so dark that I couldn't tell where the right path was...)