Just to be clear: I friggin’ love sneezing. I sneeze big, and I’m not ashamed of that. I like the floopy-headedness that follows a good nosesplosion, and the way it sometimes leads to feeling less stuffy, even if only for a few minutes.
But this week, man… I’ve got this cold, and I’ve had a runny nose since Friday. It’s been kind of miserable, but I’ve been keeping my chin up (if only so that the drip stays post-nasal). I’ve been pretty cheerful about the whole thing. I try not to feel sorry for myself about a little cold, even if it makes me feel like my brain is bathing in snot, you know?
But now there’s this tickle way up in my right nostril that WON’T DIE. No matter how many times it makes me sneeze, or how hard, it just comes back. It was fun at first, because WHEE, SNEEZLES! Ha ha, cute.
Not so much anymore.
Guys, it’s like those people who have spontaneous orgasms all the time. You hear about it, and you’re like “Sign me up for THAT disorder!” and you probably high-five yourself because that was super clever. Yeah, it sounds great… until you’re the one stuck exploding five times in the middle of Walmart, and everyone is staring at you, and IT’S NOT ALL THAT FUN ANYMORE.
There is literally no point to this post. I just kind of wanted to touch base and gross you all out a little, because I love you.
You can thank you when I’m clear-headed enough to understand you.
Yep, I have the sniffly-snuffles. The common cold. My nose is running, better go catch it, ha ha, I KILL ME. It could be a lot worse– I don’t have a fever or a cough. But you know how it is:
(I’m not actually that bad. My older son is, though. “I’m SICK! I’m really SICK!” is a common refrain every winter.)
Anyway, tanker-truck loads of mucus aren’t going to stop WIPpet Wednesday, or even a less-than-stellar ROW80 Update. Because book kittens… or something.
And as Kristen Lamb reminded us today (go read it!), in every complaint there is something to be thankful for. I am thankful for these sniffly-snuffles, because they mean I am breathing, and I’m thankful that my health is good enough that I’m not worried about my illness being something much worse.
Let’s see… math. The 27th, minus eleven for the month, and… minus sixteen for the chapter number.
That leaves us with one paragraph, the first one to come from a new character.
Because I did that. I can handle three POV characters, but I think that’s my limit for this trilogy. Or possibly ever.
I’ve never liked surprises. I don’t remember much about my first home or my first family. But I remember leaving, being wakened from sweet dreams and taken from my warm bedroom out into the cold night. My mother held me in her lap as we rode in the back of a wagon. I remember the smell of hay, and horses, and the driver’s pipe. My mother cried every day of our journey, until I thought she’d never stop. That was the first surprise I remember, and I haven’t had many pleasant ones since.
Hmm. That last sentence should maybe be its own paragraph, for impact. Maybe the first sentence, too. Well, that’s how early drafts go, right? More for you this way, anyway.
So there you go. There was another scene I just finished that I REALLY wanted to share from, but it would make even less sense out of context than this did. Boo.
Want to see who else is WIPpin’ it good this week? Head on over to the linkie, and be sure to share some comment love! And thanks to K.L. Schwengel for hosting. Speaking of whom…
I’m going to stick this down here. On Monday it was my turn in the hot seat for K.L. Schwengel’s WIPpeteer interview series. You can see that here. She was nice, didn’t release her flying monkeys on me, didn’t let them fling poop. I was nervous about that. I DID get turned into an evil, sock-stealing supervillain in the comments, but what can you do? I should have costume designs finalized by next week.
In other news, I’ve hit a post-win slowdown in my word count. Instead of riding the wave of NaNo glee, I’ve kind of not written anything since Thursday. Why? Because weekend, because children, because we had people coming Tuesday to do a walk-through of the house, see what needs repairing, and I assume to spy on us, make sure we’re not screwing the place up too badly. This meant I had to clean the place up AND (more importantly) get the kids to clean up the basement.
It was a DISASTER. There were threats, there were garbage bags, there were angry faces. I’m not proud of that, but there you go.
And after that was done, the kids wanted to do some Christmas decorating. The cats approve of the blanket I put out:
The big guy there, Charlie, is terrified of Lucy, the smallest cat in the house. He looks uncomfortable because he wants blanket, but he fears her wrath. Her adorable, fuzzy wrath.
Then on Monday I was going to get back to my regular schedule, only to find that Ike didn’t have school that morning… a fact I discovered only after dropping him off at school.
So we had a morning together, and I got nothing else done.
Tuesday was house inspection morning, and I had a short nap in the afternoon, and then kids all evening when AJ was at work, and then I had no mental energy left. And that was that.
Also, the dog ate my homework, and now I’m all out of excuses.
I need to get round to more ROW80 blogs this week. I’ve been slacking off since I’ve had NaNoWriMo goals taking up my time, but that’s not an excuse any more. If anyone would like to join me in making the rounds, you’ll find the links here. 🙂
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