Today.

The view out my window is of thick tropical trees, the kind whose roots look like old fat witches dancing. They are thick and sprawling and green and the light is shining through onto my cockroachy dirty balcony and it is a really beautiful day. I am inside, however, still astounded by how the body, when releasing me from one rung of physical hell, always adds a new one on.

For example, when I had terrible back pain last week, it stopped, without warning, just in time for me to have a fever, upset stomach, chills and dizziness for three days. And like clockwork, the minute my system cooled off and I felt normal and walked the stairs without fears of falling back down, then the back pain snuck back in. Or, another nice example, after the flu the neck and head pain came, something awful. And now, just as it subsides, a nasty desert cough has sprung up, one that, had I still had all those muscles strained, I never could have mustered a cough at all.

Oh, bodies. I, here in Israel, am at the whim of my own. I thought I would want to go out in the sun, or go to the beach, or make friends and smile and laugh and be gay and crazy in the city of avoidance. That’s how I see this place: where you go to forget where you are. Ie, in Tel Aviv you forget about war and the Middle East and it is very hard to even fathom your mapped location amidst all the hipness.

I loathe hipness this month and crave nothing but calls from doctors and gentle family gatherings. I am a bit embarrassed by my lack of “take hold, traveler!” I have been an amazing traveler at times, on amazing travels. But the older I get, the less fun it becomes in some ways, because the work is all on me. As a kid they basically led me on a rope through this country and I just went along.

And in going along, I had insta-friends. And with those insta-friends, laughing and gallivanting, I NEVER had sciatica. Sciatica and I are like whoah, buddies, it seems, for life. I am determined to find a way to divorce this buddy.

I do have an amazing roommate who made me fresh pasta last night with homemade sauce. We sat for two hours talking until I decided I knew nothing and he decided I was not a Jew, but a Buddhist, and I felt comforted by that and confused. There aren’t flashes of exquisite crazy things now, because I think I live here now, whereas before I was landing myself here. I landed. This is my hot room with that awesome view in this dusty city with a glorious beach.

If pain subsides, will I take seize of the opportunities for fun? I hope so.