OPRAH, MY OPRAH
I'm feeling a bit better today. Here's a perverse fact: Bubblegum flavored Pedialite tastes much better vomited  than swallowed . But that's enough about that. I'm trying to be stoic and draw inspiration from Laura Hillenbrand, who many days was only capable of completing one sentence of Seabiscuit before collapsing in exhaustion because of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.
Instead of writing, I've been watching a lot of television while drifting in and out of consciousness. As I've said before, there's nothing more soothing than the Oprah Winfrey show, with its schmaltzy, inspirational stories or gentle, self-improvement directives. Watching it while I'm sick is like crawling up into her big soft black bosom and having her stroke my hair and say, "Hush, child."