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I think the antibiotics are doing the trick. I actually slept through the night Saturday, which is a first for the past week -- normally I've been waking up every three hours dying of thirst and with a need to replenish my cough syrup. Still coughing a lot, but I seem to be on the mend.

I forgot to mention -- A Certain Magazine is up for a Hugo award again this year! Go us! (You've probably seen the ballot by now.) My name isn't listed there with the magazine, and for good reason: I am not editor-in-chief, managing editor, or executive editor. Thus, I'm not in charge of overall vision for the magazine. Which is just the way I like it. I write news and obits and do layout, but I'm not required to come up with ideas for special features, or coordinate with contributors, or make sure the bills are paid on time, or that we get paid, or any of that big-picture stuff. Which is good, because those jobs would give me heartburn and high blood pressure, and to do any of them right would mean diverting a lot of time and attention away from my own fiction writing. My boss has been very understanding in letting me rise only as high as I want to rise, without piling on additional responsibilities, and I'll be content as a senior editor until the magazine and I part ways (which won't happen soon, I hope). I'm much happier typing up stories and fiddling with InDesign than I would be dealing with larger conceptual issues. This way, I can leave the job behind me when I leave the office, and pay attention to my other job. And if I ever get a Hugo trophy, it'll be for my fiction, which is the way I'd prefer it anyway.

We got our taxes back from our tax prep guy. Oof. The tax bill is more than I make in two weeks at the day job. This is what I get for selling a bunch of fiction last year, and for spending it all on weddings and honeymoons and suchlike instead of business expenses. Of course, we don't have the money to pay those taxes (since I just paid to get a new radiator for the car), but we'll manage somehow. I'm expecting some significant (and overdue) writing-related money to come in soon, and it should pay off the taxes with, hrm, nothing left over. Failing that we can always skip the country and live under assumed names in South America or something. I'm actually paying quarterly estimated taxes this year, like I'm supposed to, so there shouldn't be quite this level of tax-shock come April 2007.

I successfully wrote a review yesterday, breaking my streak of doing absolutely no writing-related work, which was, admittedly, mostly due to illness rather than laziness. Today I did a lot of fiddling with Flytrap layout, which is coming along nicely. Also did some housework. Things progress. Unless I take deep breaths -- which sets off a coughing fit -- I actually feel pretty good.



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