I should have seen it coming. When I opened the last two essays to update the links I saw how negative everything was, especially the piece for April 1. If I look in my paper journal and my work diary it's absolutely clear -- I got sick sometime during the last week of March and then got drawn deeper and deeper into the clutches of some Mutating Martian Death Virus. It's one of those things that starts as vague aches and pains, adds a fever that climbs to 102, erupts in skin lesions, soft tissue inflammation, sinusitis with attendant blinding headache, and post-nasal drip. Each remedy has its own set of side effects which then require another remedy, all of which build on each other so that eventually you long for the simplicity of the original condition. I had insomnia, irritability, distorted thinking, and depression unto despair. 

I had symptoms of clinical depression on 35 of the last 60 days. For the first time in seventeen and a half years there seemed to be problems communicating with Lynn, who appeared to be turning into someone I didn't know. At one point I even thought I belonged in a mental hospital, a thought I haven't had in many years.

Things really are better today. I've gotten a grip, found the lessons in all of it, and am determined to move on. This piece closes out April. Thanks for still reading.