I went home ill at lunchtime, and didn’t sneak in some cheeky writing. No, I went to bed and promptly to sleep. Currently struggling to stay awake long enough to eat dinner. I doubt I’ll be getting any more writing done today.
These colds seem to be hitting me a lot harder than they used to; I distinctly remember being able to dose up on painkillers and decongestants and basically forget I had any symptoms until they wore off. I dosed up this morning and still snuffled and sneezed my way through the day, replete with pounding headache. Either I’ve built up a tolerance or I’m getting less capable of handling the common cold. Either is a fairly worrying prospect.
As for the writing, my other half had the nerve to suggest that I would attempt to do some when I came home. I couldn’t concentrate on work, much less creative writing! What I didn’t truly realise until I began doing it in earnest is that writing takes a whole lot more effort than posting invoices and configuring software options. Writing is harder than my job by a fair margin.
Fingers crossed that tomorrow I’ll be able to stay up, go to work, and do some more wording in the evening; the prospect of not doing any is quite depressing, even though I’ve technically won NaNoWriMo. All I can say is that I’ve got into the habit now; the valve is open and I don’t want it to close.
The procrastiscarf has also been sorely neglected of late; I got about five rows done last night and that was the whole weekend. Further updates when I resume normal function…