I've been sick for almost three days. Fever. Stomach ache. And a constant head ache. Maybe it's exhaustion. I don't know. As usual, I still worked, while sick, until this morning. This morning I came home around 11 a.m., crawled in bed, and have been sleeping and reading all day.
I started reading Waiting for Normal around 1 p.m. and I'm almost finished. Hunkering down in bed with such a wonderful book feels just like getting warm milk and toast prepared for my sick body by my gentle mom. So comforting.
In fact, reading it is much more pleasant than being on the internet, so, I'll just say this: it's realistic fiction. The main girl character is 12 and her life is sad and poor, but she's blossoming anyway.
Also, I started Painting the Wind, by Pam Munoz Ryan, and it was so good I didn't want it to end, so I stopped after about six chapters. And so now I'll have even more comfort reading for later this evening.