Wednesday, April 11, 2007

You're not dying; you just can't think of anything good to do.


Am sick.

I woke 85484 million times in the night with the goddamned itchiest throat in history, and then all of this magical phlegm came out of nowhere! I stumbled out of bed with J this morning, crawling towards the bathroom for the Advil Cold and Sinus, and mumbling incoherently about antihistamines.

I have taken 57449 vitamins in an attempt to heal myself holistically. Still, I am cranky, especially since I have been skimming blogs this morning and wondering why all of the other blogs get so much more traffic than mine? Especially since I am so witty when I discuss phlegm? And then I realized that blogs get that much more popular via networking, and am terrible networker in life and in the blogosphere, and will probably die of this wicked cold, never having been published. Then I gaze intently at my copy of Writer's Market and vow to start devouring it this weekend, as my adorable thirteen year old cousin Churd told me on Easter that he wanted to be a writer, and at this rate, he will be acclaimed novelist before me.

Have a great day, Internet. Enjoy your health.

No comments: