It is Friday. Snowy as fuck, on top of that.
I have only had fruits and berries and cereal all week for breakfast. I have the day off from work (not really sure if what lying down I have done would actually constitute anything even close to an accepted definition of sleep. I bounded out of bed, overstimmed as fuck and ...) so, I made a fatty meal - sausage gravy, biscuits, eggs, fried potatoes and onions.
I still have to get my wife to the doc, this morning. She appears to be unconscious and unresponsive, except to ask for water (a response is a good sign).
I have no idea why this is all happening again.
I went through thinking that she was going to die of shit from flu (or just pure chance, as one of my former loves had in my ancient past), quite roughly, last year.