Unwell

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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

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"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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