I am sick. Miserable, ugly, whimpering call home to mom sick. I feel so unwell that I want to curl up in a dark corner and be alone. Of course I want there to be a ring of 3 to 7 people on the edges of that ring offering back rubs, hot tea, eggs with toast with little caps on the yolks and much head nodding about how sick I really am and how awful it is and how brave I am to soldier on. Ironically, I am home alone, hunched in the cold glow of the computer, sipping a lime seltzer because oh-my-holy-god I could not choke down more than two shuddering sips of apple pedialyte. Yeah, I know it’s for kids, but…