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still toxic
I’m somewhat better than I’ve been, but I’ve still got a cough and snotty nose. No, I haven’t gone to a doctor, but only because it turns out there’s a shortage of doctors in this town and nobody is taking new patients. We got signed up with a clinic in theory but we still haven’t gotten notification that we’re actually in their system, so…yeah. Anyway. At this point I think I’m going to have healed up before I’m in the system. Whee.
That said, all I want to do today is lie in a lump on the couch and watch Brooklyn Nine Nine all afternoon, but I’d have a 7 year old beside me saying, “What? What?” and fake-laughing at things, which wouldn’t really be much fun.
The Wrinkle in Time trailer dropped yesterday and made me cry. Twice. It looks amazing. (“Mommy,” Indy said incredulously, “are you *crying*?” Yes. Yes I was.) Anyway, I haven’t read the book in at least twenty, possibly thirty, years, and I immediately bought a new copy to read it. I didn’t think it would hold up, honestly, but I’ve read the first chapter and so far it’s still amazing.
I also re-read THE HERO AND THE CROWN a couple days ago and for the first time the acid trip battle with Agsded actually made sense to me. I’ve only read the book about forty times, so it’s nice that I eventually became able to really follow that scene.
Also I don’t remember crying through Talat’s rehabilitation before. *wipes eyes*
I made crabapple jelly with the last of LAST year’s crabapples, some cherry jam, pitted more cherries that Dad brought out, and bought some peaches that I need to process today and see if I’ve got enough for jam. I have frozen strawberries, too, and some many-berry mix frozen berries. Jam, glorious jam. :)
There are TWO kittens in the garden. We’re calling them Topsy and Turvy and are feeding them and their mama. I’m waiting for the local rescue people to have a capture cage available, so hopefully that’ll come through soon.
I turned a grant application in last week. I’ve got a book proposal just about ready to submit. I have copy edits to do and need to email my editor about line edits. And…I’d have to look at my to-do list to see what’s next. That’s plenty to get me through the week, though. :)
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my head is a toxic waste dump
Actually, I think–I hope–my head is coming through the other side of being a toxic waste dump, but jeez o flip. I’ve had two back to back colds. I don’t think I was sick when I went to Liverpool, so I guess I’ve been sick since about the Sunday after, which is three weeks today. It feels like longer. Both colds have been entirely in my head with a massive fucking cough that ejects gobs of snot that the constant nose-blowing assaults on my sinuses have not been able to remove preemptively.
I’ve been a lot of fun to be around. I coughed so hard I threw up! I’d never done that before. Cross one off the bucket list, I guess. Anyway, Friday night I conceded to Ted that if this hadn’t taken a significant turn for the better by Monday I should in fact go to a doctor and see if it’s more than just two utterly crappy colds in quick succession, but then Saturday afternoon and night I was able to lie down for sleep without trying to expel my lungs, so I think I may be on the mend.
(She said, ferociously ignoring what feels like a new fresh sore throat as opposed to “oh god my throat hurts from coughing so much”.)
IN OTHER, less gross, news, despite being a one-woman snot-production company, I’ve been working on a proposal for the publisher who’s interested in working with me, binging s1 of Brooklyn Nine Nine (I love the Pontiac Bandit so much), READING (how great is READING, PEOPLE?!!? (although reading Kim Stanley Robinson’s AURORA and James S.A. Corey’s CIBOLA BURNS back to back created some significant cognitive dissonance)), and making fumbling attempts to clean the house.
Oh, and Dad brought over four kilos of cherries, so those got pitted stemmed and frozen, and I need to pursue jam and perhaps cherry pie with them. Mmmm. And let’s see, what else. Ted got an e-reader and we’re culling the print books again, although at this stage we’re pretty close to the bone and are reaching Things That Can’t Be Purchased As E-Books, which means we keep ’em. :)
Yeah, what else, hm. There is a fluffy! bouncy! kitten in our yard (or in its vicinity, anyway), courtesy of some of the feral cats who live in the area. I’d like to try to capture the kitten(s) and see if they’re young enough to be tamed and homed, but it’d obviously be good to capture the adults and get them fixed, too. (*pauses to email the local animal rescue people about this, in fact* There, that’s done.)
And now I’ve taken a remarkably long time to make this blog post and shall rise up and go clean the kitchen, because for some reason it WON’T STAY CLEAN. If only we didn’t need to eat….
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ambitious!
I woke up feeling really ambitious this morning, between the head cold and 6 hours of sleep:
I decided Ted should start working out and get in shape like The Rock.
(honestly, i have no idea where that came from but it’s so hysterical i thought it was worth sharing. i liked how *i* wasn’t gonna do this shit, no way. it was an ambition for TED. a really really extreme one! in retrospect, i thought, y’know, getting in shape like chris pratt would be a sufficiently impressive ambition. :))
As far as my own ambitions are concerned, well…I got home from bringing Indy to school and I’m still on the couch. I need to get the hell off social media. (I was wondering, somewhat grimly, how much, and what, I would accomplish, if I could manage to limit myself to 2 hours of social media time a day. Since I read like 40 books the 6 weeks we didn’t have internet, I probably have a pretty clear idea, really….)
A friend told me St Patrick’s Day was the traditional day for early harvest potatoes to go in the ground. Yay! I thought. Great plan! But my ambitions were scuppered by this cold. We spent the holiday watching movies and sleeping. Which was good! But not much like digging up the front garden plots and planting potatoes. My new ambition is to have them in the ground by the 21st, which, somehow, is tomorrow. That, frankly, doesn’t bode well.
My next ambitions may be to pull the drapes closed so I can’t see the rain, and watch some Farscape…
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i has a sick
A cold attacked me on Sunday. One minute I was fine, five minutes later I had a raging sore throat and completely stuffed sinuses. Monday I sat on the couch and watched Farscape. Tuesday I went to Dublin, which was clearly an overtaxing of my ability, but I was glad I went. I went to bed at 7:30pm on Tuesday night (Indy tucked me in and read me a story &heart;), woke briefly at 11 and thought “yay I’m a lot better!” and went back to sleep…and woke up at 4:30am. :{ Got up at 5 or something. Went BACK to bed at 10. Got up at noon, sure I would make it through until evening. Then at 7 on Wednesday evening Indy wanted some snuggle time and we went upstairs and I lay down on the bed and was like NOPE. THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE.
And woke up at 2:30am. *sigh* Stayed up until 8:30. Went back to bed until around 11. I’m pretty clearly going to have to rely on caffiene to get me through until 9 or 10pm tonight, because it’s now a quarter to one and frankly I feel I could go back to sleep.
I *am* a lot better than I was Sunday thru Tuesday evenings, but I’m still wrecked. I’ve accomplished no work at all this week, which would be frustrating if I could muster the energy to care that much. I am crying at everything. This is No Fun At All.
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much better, thank you
I am, for all of you who have asked, much better today, thank you. Muuuuuuuuuuch better.
Apparently I alarmed my poor husband, because he did come home to get Indy from school, and when he arrived home I was sleeping on the couch and he couldn’t remember the last time I was sick enough to give up trying to push through and just went to sleep on the couch. Evidently he went back to work and told people I’d been sleeping on the couch and they said “so?” and he was like, “no, you don’t understand. catie NEVER. DOES THAT.”
He told me this evening that if I’d said this morning he needed to stay home to bring Indy to school, he would have done that, and then he would have brought me to the doctor. I said I’d have waited until Thursday to go to the doctor myself, but it seems me sleeping on the couch for five hours of the day is Very Alarming Behaviour and Ted was having None Of It.
Anyway, although I was skeptical about sleeping after resting on the couch so much, I went to bed before 9pm and slept 10 hours with a brief wake-up at 1 to use the bathroom; I’d drunk a 750ml Lucozade (Gatorade, basically) during the day, which caused Indy to say, thoughtfully, “You’ll have to pee a lot tonight.” *laughs* I also thought, at that time, “Thank God for Night Nurse,” which is the Irish equivalent of NyQuil only it still has an active ingredient in it and is therefore worth taking, and then I went right back to sleep. And I was about 90% better this morning one way or another, and I’m still coughing but am otherwise pretty good this evening, so he didn’t have to bring me to the doctor.
Poor Indy has the cold now, though. :/
