So I was pretty pumped last week when, despite being sick, I managed to still get some writing work done. I was all like “Yeah! Proof that I’m a real writer!” and all that jazz. I’m not saying that post is what turned an unpleasant cold into THE PLAGUE but you know, sometimes one’s gotta wonder. Anyway, spent this entire weekend curled up in the fetal position on the couch mainlining eight hours of The Handmaid’s Tale, along with some Hoarders and Property Brothers. Every time I think I’m starting to hit the upswing, a new wave of mucus rolls in and I’m down for it again. Yesterday started out good, but got progressively worse until it was almost as bad as Friday night, so although I’m feeling a bit rallied this morning, I’m dreading what that may mean for later.
Oh, and our car brakes are apparently not working great, and the mechanic can’t get it in until Thursday. Yay. When it rains it pours. At least my folks were kind enough to loan us their car for a couple days, which at least means we’re not driving around on said weird clunky brakes.
Also the house is trashed and I’m too embarrassed to post a picture of what our kitchen looks like right now, so I’ve provided a quick sketch. Just imagine it continues to the left for about three feet…
#writerswrite #sometimes #beingsicksucks
I’m going to try to write a little today, but honestly, I’m aiming more for the single sentence-range of just saying I opened the document, dabbled a bit, and closed it for posterity. That still counts, right? *ugh*