bogeyandruby

Random stuff, reflections on the meaning of life and death, humour, self-deprecation, a bit of bad poetry.

J’ai mal au coeur. There is no better expression to describe how I feel, not even the direct English translation of “feeling nauseous”. The last time I felt this way was a year ago, on Christmas Eve. Luckily I was on holiday at the time, though I did miss Christmas dinner at my parents’.

This year, not so lucky, my malaise falls on my first day back to work after a week off.

My sweetheart was kind enough to drive me to work so that I could collect my agenda book to cancel my patients for the day. Once there, I bumped into my office mate who suggested that two years in a row indicates a pattern. “It’s when you stop that you get sick.”

Which reminds me of my treadmill analogy. Sometimes it’s easier to keep running fast than stop: ’cause stopping abruptly is when you realize how tired you are, and the wall that’s been creeping up behind you for months and months hits you full force from behind. And you have no option but to stop, completely.

I’ve got a year to figure this out.

Suggestions are more than welcome.

Peace, love and santé, dear readers.

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