Week 3 of 2008. Already. Wait, let me check my calender. Yes, it’s true. It really is the beginning of the third week of the year.
The end of last week was a wash. The head-cold gack filled up all my brain-space and shoved my brain down into my butt. Where it stayed. For a long time. Until about this morning, as a matter of fact.
So, onward. I did finish a draft of one proposal, worked on another and a third is off to the publisher already. The novel is coming more slowly. Word-by-word. Or, rather, letter-by-letter. And then there’s all the freelance that seems to keep building. This is good, I tell myself. Right before I slug down another shot of Thera Flu and go crawl under the covers with my lemon-flavored cough drops. (And for the record, no, I don’t actually take cold medicine. This time is an exception, which probably tells you how wonderful I’m feeling).
Last night was pole-dancing class. Tonight I teach my first genre-writing class of the semester and then take my first poetry class of the semester. Back to back. What am I, stupid? (Do not answer that. I can chuck a lemon cough drop at you from way back here and hit you in the eye, I swear).
At least it’s sunny out. I can go stand in the snow and smile up at that silly yellow ball and get a hit of Vitamin D (or is it K? The sun doesn’t come out here very often; I can never remember what it’s good for)…