Back in the Saddle

My progress certainly improved yesterday. I got more than half an hour of exercise, as I walked to and from Walgreen's, which took about 45 minutes. No housework, alas. But I did write more than 2,000 words -- about ten pages worth. Yay, me! That's actually a slowish day for me, but I think it's pretty good for the first time back in the saddle for a while and for not feeling particularly great.

I'd like to report that the subconscious/body conspiracy immediately realized they'd been thwarted and released their evil grip on my shoulder and neck once I proved that I could write in spite of them, but unfortunately I can't. It is, however, much better. I think all that Ben-Gay helped. I still have some pain, but I can move my head. Yay! I'm hoping I'll feel up to driving later this evening because the Fictionista Book Tour is in town at the Hard Rock Cafe, and I know a couple of the authors who will be there. It would be really nice if I could show up without smelling of wintergreen. I doubt I could pass it off as the hottest new perfume. I may pull out the Infamous Red Stilettos for the evening, if I can bear the thought of putting my feet back into them. I think I'm totally recovered from the movie premiere, and I'm sure they'll have a chair or two at this place so I won't be on my feet the whole time.

I learned once again that physical activity is good for creativity. On my way to Walgreen's I came up with a fun comic riff to use in the next scene, and that was what got me back into the book. I'm still iffy on the plot part of the scene because I have this strange feeling that I'm going in circles, but when I'm groggy, tired and sore I seem to come up with good funny stuff. I can fix the plot later, I guess. Maybe I should get beyond chapter four before I start stressing over not making a lot of plot progress.

For those who were with me last fall when I was so frustrated about the Noisy Neighbor, who plays either talk radio or morning television news at very high volumes in the room that connects through the wall to my bedroom, starting at about five in the morning and going until past seven, it seems she's still up to her old tricks. I've been sleeping with ear plugs for a while, and I forgot them last night. Even when I woke up to the noise and put the ear plugs in, I could still hear her radio/TV/whatever, so I guess the ear plugs muffle the sound just enough that it doesn't wake me up. If I'm awake, I can definitely hear it. So it's back to the ear plugs tonight. This woman must be seriously sleep-deprived. I hear signs of life over there when I'm already in bed, and then she gets up at five. Maybe I should leave a nice aromatherapy gift basket on her doorstep so she can get more rest.

And now, once again, we have an Out of the Blogosphere entry, the last in the Bewitched, Bothered and Bevampyred anthology. This week's story is "Night Mares," by MaryJanice Davidson. At a birthday party for the Disdaine Triplets, the little darlings decide they aren’t pleased with the party or the guests and use magic to create their own fun. That night the town and all its residents are visited by the infamous Night Mares who wreak mayhem as only giant ponies prancing through your house can (I think that's my new excuse for the state of my living room). For more info, check out her web site.