Roll Me Over

Today I am sick.

I write today under the malaise of my linen duvet. My throat hurts; I have lost my voice—I am bored and I feel extremely unproductive.

I have watched shadows skirt slowly across the wooden fence of our front yard. From my pillow, I see the light of beautiful, sunny day. There’s the sound of a gas-powered leaf blower, planes fly way too low overhead, and a German Shepherd barks in the yard next door. Through the glass panes of our white french doors, the orange trees dance and I can tell there’s a nice breeze in the air, but I cannot feel it from in here.

“What do most people do when they are sick?” I ask myself.

By “most people” I of course mean the artists, the millionaires, the egregiously beautiful people of this planet. I wonder, do they wither amid the doldrums of a prickly throat as do I?

The internet tells me I should be resting. Lie in bed, you simple fool! But my mind and the ceiling fan spin on low. Another reminder that this is your AI doctor speaking—so I try and I try, and I can recline only so far as to convince myself that I have become nothing but a lazy man.

Rest. Yes, for it is today that I want nothing more than to be better tomorrow—nothing, the only answer. Yet still, I wonder: What do all the beautiful people do?

My brain function’s not at full-capacity. I have laid in bed all day. A green smoothie I drank this morning and a slice of leftover pizza I ate this afternoon. The clock reads 5:30pm. To be sure, Alex takes care of me, she always does. But she’s at work this afternoon—in the air to Las Vegas, gone until it’s NyQuil time.

Such a beautiful day. What the fuck can I do?

To do nothing, it seems like my life will forever be the same. Productivity is a religion. I’m a piece of shit for being sick, is what it is. Roll over me with that.

I miss writing. I miss driving across empty places. I’m a man, but understanding is often left for children.

My life is ripe and my life is perfect, and being sick today is my greatest worry.

I have everything, yet I can’t help it. This sore throat is choking me.