Goes Somer * Goesomer * Gossamer

 
Yeah. My superamazing word count has gone kaput thanks to the combo of extra work hours (yes, on top of my already full hours), family visit (I regret nothing, that was a wonderful visit), and to to it off, I am sick with a cold. I was out yesterday, flat on my back in bed full of cold medication and amassing a pile of used tissues. I am the worst sick patient. Today I'm out of bed, but am still sick. I debated going in to work this morning; it's time and a half on Sundays, and I was scheduled for 8 hours. That's a lot of money to little ol' me. But I am a drippy faucet and contagious as all get out and it goes against my principles to be a plague carrier or utterly exhaust myself by being up on my feet for 8 hours one day after battling a serious cold.

Here I am, at home. I relaxed, ate a bunch of soup to fuel healing. Napped. I don't think I feel much better this evening than I did this morning, but I don't feel any worse. Gonna drink some tea and see to WriMoing. I will at least type up a few pages of my longhand from earlier this month. I'm a bit fuzzy in the head.  

I'm not 100% pleased with my work this month; there were a few afternoons I absconded from the requisite minimum of sitting down to write for a simple hour, family visits and illness excluded. However, I've written about 7,000 words for 3 different writing projects and read two books. Considering my terrible performance before November and how little free time I've had to achieve this, it's a vast improvement.

It's a lot to type up and edit. I need to get on top of that. Fingers crossed that in January my day job sends me to work from home and I can begin writing in earnest. And now that I've had both the flu AND a cold in the past 3 months, I can't get sick again this winter! (I say, miserably blowing nose.)