Ugh...

Head colds.. ugh, who needs them. They are the worst colds imaginable. They don't knock you completely out of the picture because, I at least, can still function with one. But they certainly don't make it fun.

My sinuses feel like they're clamped in a vise and all the drainage is making my stomach nauseated. You probably didn't want to know that, but nausea is my arch-enemy. I can deal with almost anything except nausea. Probably because when I purge, that's all I can do. My body forgets it needs to breathe or any other function. And, it's violent. I have actually given myself a concussion during a violent purging episode. Let me phrase it this way... I put The Exorcist to shame... I think knowing that lies on the possible end of the waves of nausea is why I dislike it so much... I Do Not Want To Vomit... ever!

So, now, instead of using my dull free time at work to write... I'm sitting here having an argument with my stomach. Joy. Of course my characters wanted me to write last night, were giving me all kinds of information... about the time I had to go to bed. So, no one trapped inside this mind or body is in the mood to cooperate and I'm not in the mood to negotiate... I would seriously swallow dynamite and light the fuse if life worked like the cartoons. That would show them all who's boss here.

Unfortunately, I get no sympathy from the people occupying my small cranial space. Instead of appreciating my ill humor and backing off, they want to continue poking me. Which then sets my nausea into a roll... which then makes me very unhappy.... And being hungry with nausea is even worse. The thought of food makes me salivate and sends me running for that porcelain throne, definitely not fair.

I probably will manage to write something today. I'm thinking of working on the Epilogue that goes with Destiny Fulfilled. I didn't know exactly that there would be one, but Sorcha just decided to open up last night and let it pour out.... just as I was thinking about sleep. So, I sort of cataloqued it for later, gave her a mental finger, and laid my head on the pillow.

Now the hotel guests want to get in on the action. Please, if you have questions at a hotel, call down and ask them all. Do not call repeatedly with one question per call or we'll liable to direct you to the roof and then give you a push.... swan dive anyone?

So, with everyone dancing on my last tattered nerve and everything adding to it. I think I might just retreat into fantasy land for a little bit...
And, if you see someone swan diving off a building yelling Cowabunga (or something similarly crazy), please bring out the trampoline or I might regret it later....

living on the edge
Jennifer