Even the bird, who is sitting at the Veterinarian’s office now. Marc went back to bed for a nap this morning. I had two back to back meetings and then off I went to drop off the bird and head into the office. While my nose gently drips – I can hear George Harrison twirling in his grave.

Being sick is tiresome. I hate how it takes me out of myself and my life. I don’t feel like I want to spare that time, but I’m guessing it’s Mother Nature’s way of telling me that something is not quite right. And it hasn’t been. I’ve been moody and snappish on account of petty resentments and not so petty worries that weigh on me. I’m continuing to improve my ability to handle these little storms, so this one took me by surprise. I didn’t hear back from the hotel in Florence or the tour company in Rome and I let it get to me. The bird being ill also stresses me out. I don’t want her to be a deceased parakeet, but I also do not want to spend hundreds of dollars getting her back to health like last time.

Long story short, the tour company got fired and I moved onto another more responsive one, the hotel finally responded, with Uffizi and Accademia reservations as requested, and the train tickets from Milan to Zurich can wait until we arrive in Milan.

Now if the bird would only be so easy.

Here is a pretty picture of my WIP