I have struck ill by the nasty virus that has been burdening my three-year-old son for the past couple of weeks. Just as he has recovered his toddler energy, I have started to feel like the living dead. I was due for a doctor visit for a re-check of my high blood pressure, so I'm hoping to get a dose of antibiotics today also. If I'm lucky I'll pull out of this viral fog just as the clouds lift and spring arrives in reality.
These days I'm really craving being in the middle of a engrossing novel, but instead I decided to tackle Richard Dawkin's classic work The Selfish Gene. I keep seeing the book referenced in other works I have read, and thought -- in this year celebrating the 200th anniversary of Darwin's birth -- that I should get it into my memory cells. Not that all of that information will be easily retrievable, but I'm sure to absorb most of it. Even with those motivations I still read it with part of my mind thinking of all the wonderful fiction sitting on my shelves unread.