Hmmph.

[desperance]

Sleepless all night, giddy and sick all day. Weirdly, that's all right. By morning I was tired of being in bed, and my back hurt; and I was too sick to go out, and didn't want to sit around because my back hurt, so I've spent the day shifting stuff around. Slowly and carefully, because I didn't want to throw up or damage me any more than I'm damaged already, but you can get a lot shifted in a day.

Which is just as well, as I appear to be having a 49th-birthday party on Twelfth Night (that's Sunday, to spare you the counting). Friday is my actual birthday, but I need the extra days for cake-baking and vacuuming and such. Slowly and carefully. Abandon hare; embrace tortoise!

In other news, there seem to have been about forty pages more in my first draft than I thought there were. (I went back and added a rape-of-Nanking, somewhere in mid-draft; I thought I must have accounted for that and corrected the page numbering accordingly, but I'm beginning to suspect not.) This is ... a little dispiriting. Like suddenly encountering a Balrog, when you are tired already.

Comments

[mantichore.livejournal.com]

Hm. One hesitates to wish you a happy new year in the wake of all that grousing and grouching, but one will, all the same! ^_____^