Hermitry

I've mentioned before how the oppressive heat and humidity aggravate many of my symptoms, but actually it's been quite mild here in Chicago. August should be predictably brutal, so I'm actually looking forward to my impending extended stay at Northwestern Memorial.

Truthfully, the real problem lies in my restrained mobility. My balance is absolute shit, and my legs feel like they could rust over like the Tin Man's in "The Wizard of Oz." Plus I have scrambled eyesight whereby everything looks like "28 Days Later." Stairs, too, are a bitch, so I avoid them whenever possible.

So, I remain indoors most of the time. My porch provides almost the only outlet to the outdoors. I must confess: I don't mind this, because I don't like nature much. (Logan Square has mosquitoes, people, and they're annoying and very disturbing if you think about what they do.)

Shunning society isn't so bad if you're as purportedly misanthropic as I seem. Really, though, my previously mentioned circadian schedule prevents gregariousness before midnight. I don't think many people mind, admittedly. Just kidding.

Nevertheless, I cannot do much during the day, let alone socialize. Come fall, though, if I'm measurably relieved of at least a few of these symptoms, I might look into moving in the daylight.

As for now, I am getting scarily serious about my Emily Dickinson-inspired white linen dress (see below).

R