This past week has been difficult. I caught a stomach bug.
It was awful.
I thought I was strong. I was wrong.
Throughout the week, I kept thinking: I would pay quite exorbitant amounts of money just to feel healthy again.
But alas, money don’t make the sick feel any better if they’re not well enough to enjoy it.
During this ill spell: books didn’t interest me; food didn’t interest me; running didn’t interest me; money didn’t interest me.
Life didn’t interest me.
It made me think: how poorly those who are constantly sick must feel. How more empathetic to their lot I must be.
How, in my blessed life, I need to start to plan to make their lives more like mine.
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