Stephanie Burgis
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and oh-so-much less happy days...
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This morning I woke up with my left ear completely blocked. No hearing at all, just massive pressure, making me feel uncoordinated and out-of-it, as well as half-deaf. By the end of breakfast (which we ate to the accompaniment of BBC's Radio 4), I'd decided that the blockage was actually a last-ditch self-protective mechanism on the part of my body, desperately trying to preserve me from hearing today's election news.

Too bad it couldn't take out the other ear, too.

It's been really hard to work today. Hard to make it feel worthwhile, when I'm feeling so frustrated and depressed.


We went out to the coffee shop anyway this morning, and it was filled with cheery Christmas ornaments, treats, etcetera. Normally, I'd be irritated by all the commercialism so early, but today it actually felt kind of nice--one pleasant thing to think about, as opposed to all the rest. Patrick and I sat around feeling depressed and drank our drinks. Eventually, I wrote two and a half pages of Chapter Seven of Music of the Stars. I'd like to write a new short story right now, but I'm afraid it'd just be too angst-ridden for words. Much better to stick with the novel-in-progress, whose plot has already been set out for me.

Tomorrow I'm getting my ear cleaned out at the doctor's office. Maybe there'll be better news for me to hear by then.

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