Self-Imposed Exile - Journal Entry #30
A novel told in journal fragments: A writer's quiet struggle to finish a novel, alone in the woods.
Monday, September 1 - 3:03am - Day 286
It’s been raining for 11 days. Not a continual rain but there’s always something. There have been moments of torrential downpours that hammer on the windows and roof and sometimes they last for quite a while. But whether it’s one of those or just a misty drizzle, there’s always something. There’s been no sunshine. Just dark, gloomy clouds.
The ground around the cabin is just mud and puddles and muddy puddles. I’m guessing the lake has risen at least a foot or more. It’s up over the little “beach” and, if things keep going, I can see it rising to be even with the land and the trees.
There’s been a few days of thunder and lightning. Some of it a very distant rumble. Some of it, seemingly, is directly over the cabin, with the thunderclaps loud enough to shake the walls. Thunder never bothered me, even as a kid. It’s just noise. And it is very cool to see lightning streak out of the sky and arc down to the lake, forking and splitting, then hitting with a small “explosion” of water. Other than those brief lightning strikes that actually make me smile, things have not been going well.
Ever since my sister came up to visit a few weeks ago, I’ve been dragging. Not just mentally, but physically. I don’t know if it was getting out and having actual up close contact with people or just having them around, but whatever the case, I got sick about a week after they left. Started out with just the usual cold symptoms - scratchy throat, stuffy nose, clogged ears. Nothing major. But then somewhere along the way it morphed into this evil infection that, I believe, has made me the sickest I’ve ever been in my entire life.
My head has been pounding for more than a week. It’s one of those headaches that, whenever you move, hammers your skull with each beat of your heart. No matter how much I blow my nose, it’s constantly full and what comes out is a radiant green. My chest is tight, my breathing is wheezy, and I’ve been hacking up things that I don’t even want to think about. I’ve had an on and off fever for nearly two weeks but it rarely comes on during the day. It likes to creep in while I’m sleeping. I wake up shivering and pile on the blankets, only to wake up a few hours later literally drenched in sweat so bad that I have to change my clothes. Then, I can’t cool down and pace around the cabin. It’s gotten so bad some nights I had to turn on some fans, just to get some relief. I’ve thought about going to the doctor but, even when I manage to drag myself out of bed and not feel like I’m going to pass out, the rain is so bad I don’t want to chance getting stuck in the mud somewhere.
So, suffice to say, I haven’t written anything in nearly two weeks, not even here. Today is the first day that I can say I feel even the slightest bit better. Of course, the reason I’m up at this hour is because of another sweat-fest and simply couldn’t go back to sleep. I can’t see myself doing much of anything for at least the next couple of days either. But my head isn’t pounding like it was so that’s a good thing.
Nothing’s ever easy. I always want it to be, although I should know enough by now to realize it never is.
Anyway, I’m gonna try to go back to sleep.
Knew I should have kept that hazmat suit after the pandemic. Never know with a bunch of germ laced kids will ambush you. Though I don’t think we should be so quick as to discount the Toby Burgers…definitely now that we know the secret ingredient that gives them their uniquely crunchy and munchable qualities.