I've been under the weather today. I think I got nuked by allergies something fierce.

When I'm not feeling well, I also get moody. I sat on the couch all night, downloading (from iTunes) and then watching the last several episodes of season 2 of "Saving Grace".

I haven't figured out why I like this show. I think maybe I like the idea of believing in Earl, even though my religious beliefs are really non-beliefs. I understand the allure of believing in angels and a loving god. I understand the desire to believe in miracles and an afterlife. I understand the allure in believing that we'll again see those who have passed ahead of us.

My list of creatures I miss isn't all that long. My grandparents, my parents, and a bunch of dogs.

Ultimately, though, I think what we see is what we get. Which is sad in a way. Kirkegaard referred to that as the sickness unto death.

For me, it's hard to believe in things like angels. There are so many problems in the world that could be solved with one clear cut, angelic visit. A bunch of them could be handled with a visit just to one man: the pope.

Ultimately, rather than heavenly angels, I think we need to find our own. In some ways, we each have the ability to be an angel. We only need to help someone who needs help. I'm certainly not going to be the first person to devote his life strictly to helping others. But simply lending a hug can have such profound effects when someone is down. Or a smile. A kind word. Or just (see the post yesterday) being excited to see someone.

What's too bad -- the number of people in the world who prey upon the helpful. It turns us all cynical. No one wants to be used or cheated. I think most people would help someone who needed help, but we've been taught that naivety will be ill paid. When we lose our innocence, we don't get it back.

But for me, for now, it's bedtime.

Maybe I'll dream of angels. Or dogs.