September 2010


The book is done!  Well, my part, the official unofficial beta reader/editor/grammar police/punctuation freak part, is done.  I finished taking notes on the last chapter earlier today, and was so exhausted I fell asleep till Nick got home from work.  Now, that was really only about twenty minutes, but still.  Be impressed, cats and kittens.  I accomplished something!  I accomplished something for someone else!  Staring at black letters being backlit by a glowing blueish whiteness really did nothing for my eyes, though.  They are currently quite angry at me.

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I finally felt like exercising again, yesterday and today, and I tried something new today.  It was a weighted sculpting thing that was decently tough, but I made it.  I’ve tried it before but then got bored.  Today I kept up with it, and it made my ankles sweat. don’t get me wrong, I’ve sweated before, but oh man I’ve never noticed my ankles sweating.  The weirdest it’s ever been was one hot summer’s end with daily doubles in volleyball pre-season where my lower eyelids sweated.  But. . . my ankles sweated.  it was just so strange.

One more Nick-sick story and then I’ll quit.

I can’t promise that, why am I trying?

Just bear with me, it’s a good one.

Ahem.  Yesterday morning Nick decided to have cereal for breakfast – honey nut scooters!  Hooray for off-brands!  He poured milk, got a spoon, cuddled into his computer chair, and started to eat while I was in the other room washing my face and brushing my teeth, etc.  This is what happens next:

Nick: (from his chair)  Honeyyyyy?

Me: (from the bathroom) Yeah?

Nick: Is the milk bad?

Me: I don’t know; does it smell bad?

Nick: I don’t know; I can’t smell.  Will you smell it for me?

Me: (meeting him in the kitchen) Of course!  (smelling the cheerios)  Bwagh!  Yes, bad.  Bad rotten bad ew bad.  Don’t eat that.  Dump it out.

Nick:  I thought it tasted funny. . . .

(end scene)

As I’ve said, Nick’s been sick.

I’ve been sick, too, but that’s not the point just now.

The point is, a hot toddy (whiskey, hot water, honey, lemon) is a well-known treatment for a sore throat, congestion, and cough.  With that in mind, and the virgin version sprinkled liberally through my past, I suggested said treatment for poor Poopsiekins last night.  After about five days with a nagging, dry cough, I suggested (for the severalth time) that he try the toddy again, or the virgin toddy if he wasn’t in the mood for whiskey.  It was 2:30am, and he had just finished doing inventory of the WHOLE.  DANG.  STORE.  I’d be in the mood for whiskey about then, but he’s allowed to make his choices.  He listened to my suggestion, and I dozed back off to my own uncomfortable sleep secure that the honey would be soothing his throat and suppressing the cough, the steam from the hot water would be loosening his sinus congestion, and the lemon juice would provide acidic stripping of the throatular mucous as well as a dose of vitamin C.  I had done my loving duty and tended my husband, all with things we already had!  Hooray!

This morning he told me that the beverage made his cough worse.  The soothing, coating honey managed to inflame his cough somehow.  He defies the laws of nature and illness, people!  Also he got hardly any sleep as a side effect.  Yeah, that’s my bad.  Any home-cures?  Anyone?  HELP ME.

I am sick.

Nick was out of commission for two days this week, with complaints like a sore throat, a dry cough, and oodles of sinus drainage.  After his third (or was it fourth?) day of these complaints and the worst of it was over, I woke up with a sore throat.  That was yesterday.  After work, I was very tired so I took a nap, whimpering and whining.  Nick went to the store and got some orange juice for me, and some chicken noodle soup.  Some friends invited us over for wine and bread and olive oil,  so we visited them.  Nick and I were both past the safe driving amount, so we crashed on their living room floor with their cat.  We were all tired and done for the night by 11:30pm . . . we figured we’re all old.  I haven’t seen midnight in a long time.

Today, I got nauseated around noon, and had a dreadful neck/headache from sleeping on a pillow that was higher than I’ve been accustomed.  So, after eating something so my stomach wasn’t empty, I took a nap.  Then I woke up two hours later with a fever.  You know, my hands were warm but I was shaking.  I took a dose of tylenol to help the neck pain, but it took a solid half-hour to kick in and until it did I was feeling decidedly delirious.  And piggybacked on the delirium was another wave of nausea, the kind that isn’t just there to make you miserable.  That nausea had one job – to lead to vomiting.  I got to camp out on the floor of my bathroom for a while (I have no idea how much time passed) with my overheating ribs against the cool tub, attempting to read a book so I didn’t get bored as I waited for yakking.

I never did puke.  I can’t decide if I’m glad of that, or upset about it.  On the one hand, it’s very unpleasant to throw up.  On the other, I went through all the build-up, so it’s anti-climactic to not throw up at all.

Nick’s store is doing their annual inventory tonight.  His work schedule is 6pm-2am.  And I’m home, sometimes feverish and delirious, sometimes within an inch of vomiting, sometimes just fine.  Do you pity me yet?

I am a beta reader for an author friend and for the last three days she’s been sending me three-chapter sections of one of her manuscripts which I then proof and opine.  It is a great deal of fun, and lets me pretend that I’m official in some way.  After all, I love books and I love being right so if I can combine the two, I’m a very contented individual.  I get to double-check her spelling and grammar, sentence structure and coherency.

As I finished another, unrelated book this afternoon, I realized I was having trouble differentiating between the two stories I’d been absorbed in today and my real life.  I was combing through my memories of the day to decide what I’d write about, I kept having these bright, awesome, tension-filled memories and then lesser, blander memories.  After I tried to gather up the bright ones to get some stories for you all to enjoy, I noticed one thing in common between all of them: they weren’t real.  Oops.  Oh well, I made more cookies today, had a good time with a new friend, and EXERCISED OH MAN.

I spent today (and yesterday) editing a book for a friend in three chapter segments. I think she’s rationing me.

I had a friend over for dinner – I made chicken broccoli alfredo, but my cheese sauce was not as awesome as it could be.

I didn’t remember to write until ten till ten.

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