I spent most of the day in bed, nauseated. And depressed that I was nauseated. I go through my life with chronic stomach ailments and I'm usually able to keep up with things in spite of it all...with a genuine smile even. But I had one of those pity-party days where I couldn't stop thinking about myself and how horrible I feel, and how unfair life is. Tonight I sat next to a friend I hadn't seen in 7 years. She asked me what I'd been up to and I listed off the wonderful things that have happened in my life since I was 20. When I asked how she had been, she pointed to her spiky, freshly grown hair and sweetly said, "The years have been much kinder to you." She's been battling cancer. How dare I feel sorry for myself.