Means always having to say I'm sorry. I'm NOT WRITING. At all. Blech.
I feel like dreck. The head cold I thought I'd conquered has smacked me down with stealthy vengeance.
All I've done all day is nothing. Except thank my mom profusely for delivering soup. And talking to b/f on phone. OK, it was more like whining.
And listening to music on my computer. I go through phases where I listen to none at all. And then it's like I'm thirsting for it, and can't get enough music.
Now playing (in random order with other stuff): Lhasa.
Listen while happy-ish. Not for that borderline depressive state.
Anyhow. Tylenol Cold is a miracle. I'm going to bed so I can get up tomorrow and buy more Tylenol Cold medication. I love science.
One of these days, I swear, I'll actually write about writing again. Sheesh. Until then, no more entries. This is getting embarassing.
I'll correct links and speling erorrrs when I'm better (thanks to my new de-facto editor). (Is that what de facto means?)