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Just get inside. It's almost over.
Feb. 25th, 2010 08:28 pmFebruary 25, 2010 Progress Notes:
"Stay"
Words today: 750.
Words total: 4950.
Reason for stopping: Good break point. And I need to think about why this conversation will be important.
Darling du Jour: His shoulders were hunched around his chin as if he wished himself disappeared.
Mean Things: Wendigoes! Spatting with your boss/quasi-Notaboy. Letting things make you an asshole.
Research Roundup: Dene stories about winter, some of which were, coincidentally, about wendigoes; Dene historiography.
Books in progress: Kurt Vonnegut, Galapagos.
The glamour: Light puttering: dishes, tidying, making bread. I'm still wickedly sick, even if my head's finally clearing up, and I kinda don't want to push it. I have plans this weekend I would like to be halfway functional for.
The diagnosis is a sinus infection, and you don't even want to know how that translates into coughing stuff up. Honest. Don't even go look that up on the Internet, people. You'll be sad.
Suffice to say I am on antibiotics and huffing something with steroids in it and sleepy and coughing and bored and unamused and burning sick days like they're on sale this week only. But feeling better enough this afternoon that I could string some words together.
It helps that I pretty much know how everything goes with this one; it's just putting the words down one in front of the other that's a pain in the butt. For some reason the pickiness on the sentence level that this story had has turned it into a bit of a trudge. But! Whatever. If I'm diligent it'll still be done in plenty of time for its intended home.
Okay, my bread should be ready soon. Going to munch on that and keep killing my snot-logged brain with TV.
Laptop Debt Kill:
2850 / 17000 words. 17% done!
"Stay"
Words today: 750.
Words total: 4950.
Reason for stopping: Good break point. And I need to think about why this conversation will be important.
Darling du Jour: His shoulders were hunched around his chin as if he wished himself disappeared.
Mean Things: Wendigoes! Spatting with your boss/quasi-Notaboy. Letting things make you an asshole.
Research Roundup: Dene stories about winter, some of which were, coincidentally, about wendigoes; Dene historiography.
Books in progress: Kurt Vonnegut, Galapagos.
The glamour: Light puttering: dishes, tidying, making bread. I'm still wickedly sick, even if my head's finally clearing up, and I kinda don't want to push it. I have plans this weekend I would like to be halfway functional for.
The diagnosis is a sinus infection, and you don't even want to know how that translates into coughing stuff up. Honest. Don't even go look that up on the Internet, people. You'll be sad.
Suffice to say I am on antibiotics and huffing something with steroids in it and sleepy and coughing and bored and unamused and burning sick days like they're on sale this week only. But feeling better enough this afternoon that I could string some words together.
It helps that I pretty much know how everything goes with this one; it's just putting the words down one in front of the other that's a pain in the butt. For some reason the pickiness on the sentence level that this story had has turned it into a bit of a trudge. But! Whatever. If I'm diligent it'll still be done in plenty of time for its intended home.
Okay, my bread should be ready soon. Going to munch on that and keep killing my snot-logged brain with TV.
Laptop Debt Kill:
