Sometimes there is nothing to do, but be sick. No planning or writing or rehearsing or thinking. No worrying about what I should be doing — to be a better artist, to be a better human, to help save the world. There is just sick. 

Take the prescribed medication. Drink the water and tea and juice and garlicky broth with turmeric and ginger. Stay under all the blankets. Fever and chill and ache and sleep and get better. 

And feel grateful because I can already feel this passing. Already better. Nearly well. I will recover in time to travel and do a show I’m excited about with good people I’m excited to see again or meet for the first time. 

My children are safe and well. My friends are checking in. My stories are intact and waiting. The world is still here for saving.