My grand plans for a weekend writing marathon crumbled when I came down with a bad cold. It's my own fault. I brought it upon myself. During my organization frenzy, I designated a portion of a drawer in the bathroom for cold supplies and made sure it was fully stocked. And then I didn't get seriously sick all winter, just a few minor bouts of sniffles. Friday morning as I was getting dressed and doing some tidying in the bathroom, I noticed the cold supplies stash and thought to myself that I'd been very fortunate not to come down with a cold all winter.
Cue the sore throat, sneezing and runny nose later that afternoon. At first I thought it might be allergies, since pollen counts were high, but taking allergy medicine did no good, and the symptoms kept getting worse. Between the fogginess from the cold and the fogginess from the medicine (at least I was fully stocked), there was no writing going to happen. I could barely form words. So, I spent the weekend lying on the sofa, drinking fluids, sneezing my way through a box of tissues, and marathoning the previous season of A Game of Thrones.
I think the worst of it has passed now. I missed yoga this morning because I don't really feel safe driving in this state, there is no breathing through my nose, and bending over would be a very bad idea right now. I need to finish my taxes (I just need to put numbers in the boxes on the forms and do the final calculations, since I keep the accounting running all year as I go), but that's iffy in the state I'm in. I may do a draft version today and then check it when I'm clearer.
I'm not sure about trying to write today, as the first thing I need to write is a rewrite of the last scene I wrote. Just as I finished it, I realized it was yet another talky scene, and then I came up with a way of making it more action and less talk, and it was right then that the cold hit me like a brick.
I'm considering an afternoon nap because I think some rest might help knock it the rest of the way out.
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