Okay, so I announced my possible idiocy last week. I had a busy weekend cleaning house, but I also made some serious notes on the book. Then Monday morning. I arrive at work ready to roll. I have all my notes with me to get going Monday after hours. Two hours in I realize that not only is something not right, but that I am very intensely sick. So home I go with the flu.
I tcuk myself into bed with pen and paper, determined to get something done, no matter what. And promptly fell asleep. Extremely sick. Sicker than I was with H1N1. Was I going to die? Can't write. Can't watch tv, the noise bothers me. I worry down a little food and drink so that I can take my medicines and some ibuprofen. Mostly the ibuprofen. And sleep, sleep, sleep. By Tuesday morning I am feeling some better. I eat small, take more ibuprofen, call my mommy and go back to bed. This time I stay awake long enough to make just a few notes.
When I wake up I look at my notes. Little and almost no value. And I'm still wondering why I wrote down Cesar Milan's name. He has nothing to do with the book.
By Tuesday evening I am obviously getting well. I sit down and start makiong a list of characters so that I can keep everybody straight. Even created a few new ones. Also started making a list of local businesses and places so that I can keep them straight.
So here is Wednesday. I'm at work on shaky ground, but ready to get back at it. Stay tuned to see if I survive. . . .
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