slowly recovering. And, as Balzac wrote , “On ne saurait dire a’ quel point un homme, seul dans son lit et malade, devient personnel” or, in free jewish translation, “you have no idea how a person, alone and sick in bed, gets to be narcissistic.”  Very free translation.  

So I’m not alone.  So I’m not in bed all the time … Who would do the dishes if I stayed in bed? Especially since Ezi is sick in bed as well.

So this entry is all about me and my kvetches:

The same guy delivers my stuff from the supermarket.  Today he was very late.  “It’s raining,” he stammers in Hebrew as he hands me wet paper bags.  I add the empties to the pile of recyclables that has collected over the past 2 weeks.  Kids bring medicines, and quickly leave.  But the phone calls, the zooms, the whatsapps – wow.  Total salvation.

Now that it’s almost okay, I’m evaluating how much the support of others helped me get past the worst.  They aren’t the people who read this, so I’m not using this platform to thank them.  I’m using it to remind people that support makes a difference in survival.