Unwell

I’ve been sick for over a month now. Since August, my asthma has been overly sensitive, then I got a cold and can’t seem to fully recover. I’ve cough so much I nearly pass out because I can’t stop—and actually have passed out (once last year when I had RSV, and the other night. I started coughing then woke up on the ground). Laughing causes the same result so I must be careful. My head hurts from coughing all the time.  Since breathing is compromised, I have zero energy. I have a nice stool at work on which to sit but getting things done around the house is nearly impossible. Taking the trash up and back absolutely winds me. I have one day off, like today, and all I want to do is sleep.  “ . . . to die, to sleep; No more; and by a sleep, to say we end The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep, To sleep, perchance to Dream; aye, there's the rub, For in that sleep of death, what dreams may c...

My Sad Book

"The Good Earth" by Pearl S. Buck stands out as my sad book. Mine is not a sorrowful depressive kind of sadness expressed in tearfulness, but is rather the sadness of a kind of empathy.

No matter what happens to a man, the earth will always produce. The earth is good, but life is hard. The story centers on Wang Lung, a man who rises and falls. He struggles to prosper and struggles in his prosperity. Wang Lung's story begins in the country and moves to the city--but Wang Lung's heart remains in the country. He wants the simplicity of what he once had, the wealth of the land--the wide open spaces, peace and safety.

Births, deaths, weddings, funerals, poverty, wealth, fidelity, betrayal--Wang Lung experiences a very full life--but what does it take to make a man happy? What brings satisfaction? The conclusion is reminiscent of Tolstoy, who answered the question in his short story of how much land a man really needs.

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