While I was sick in bed for several days, at least once I was no longer feverish, I devoured books. The last couple of days, though, I can't concentrate on anything. Nothing appeals. I've started a romance, a historical mystery, and gone back to a memoir. I'm carrying a YA in my bag that I haven't started yet.
Perhaps this is another sign of needing a rest. I don't know what kind, just a rest.