Being zick

It's much, much worse than being sick. It gives permission for unadulturated escapism. It makes you work hard and fast in order to be distracted from how bad you feel. It makes you misanthropic. When you're zick you don't want to be bothered by people's petty discontents. I wish I could find that Roz Chast takeout on business self-help books, one of which was entitled "From here, they all look like ants to me." When I'm zick and awake in the middle of the night, I give myself permission to read as long as I want to, no matter what I or anybody else might have to do in the morning. Flashman still makes good escapist reading. I gave away all the ones before this one, the most recent, which came from the library. There are always referrals to tantalizing adventures not yet described. I think I'll be going on to Seminary Boy next after Flashman on the March. I guess I should be grateful that I hardly ever get sick, let alone zick, and never sick or zick enough to just take to my bed, only enough to have license to be grumpy. Which I am.