A good sick day is when you are coughing and losing your voice, your body is aching and you feel slightly nauseous, all reasons not to go to work and infect the workplace. BUT when you also feel just good enough to shuffle about the house and catch up on a few of the easier things neglected during California time. My goal today, between dosing myself with Advil and Zicam is to plow through about 12 days of newspapers.

I probably should deal with my addiction to paper with words on it. Why do I feel it necessary to subscribe to two newspapers and a magazine, and pile books all about me? Because I love knowledge? Because I’m supporting the publishing industry? Because, even though I’m not an ardent fan of the Albuquerque Journal, the thought of not having a morning paper available in one’s hometown is too scary to contemplate? Because reading is the only thing that can enhance the glorious times of life and get you through the awful slumps? And everything in between—like middle of the night bouts of flu-like symptoms when you feel too sick to sleep but not quite bad enough to call for an ambulance.

I do have an admission to make about reading downloaded books but that’s for later. For now though, time for another Zicam and six more papers. I am reading the Journal first to catch up on our murderous police force and the meth-addicted killer mother. Oh yeah, and Meadow Lake will be salvaged from the underclass who have almost taken it over. Not exactly the news from Lake Wobegon but hey, it’s 2014 and the world has changed.