BH: 1918

Although I’m definitely better than I was over the weekend (I have energy, mainly), I think I spoke too soon about getting better. I woke up at 8 a.m. or so (after turning off the light just before 2) because I was congested and my throat was phlegmy, and when I coughed it hurt like hell. So I snorted nasal spray and sucked on a lozenge and read until the lozenge was gone, then I slapped on an eye mask and laid back down. I woke up at almost noon because Ken called. Yoiks.

I braved the kitchen and tried again with the soup and sandwich. This time, no burning or boiling over, although I did burn one finger slightly. I was so pleased with my success that I promptly made a second sandwich and had a second mug of soup. And although I haven’t been eating _well_ (mostly carbs and protein, because veggies are rough on my throat and fruit just doesn’t interest me), I’ve apparently not been eating very much, because I’ve lost three pounds since Friday (just watch, though—I’ll shoot up tomorrow when I officially weigh myself).

I read e-mails and websites, then prepared to do some writing. But when I was in the bedroom, I looked at the one clock in the house that Ken apparently hadn’t changed for Daylight Savings, thought it was later, and realised I should start copy editing. So I did (even though I realised moments later, when I sat down at the computer, what time it really was). This article was a bitch—the author was foreign and his references appear to have been tacked on from another article—so it took me longer than expected. Blah. But it’s done. One more to do tomorrow, and then it’s the waiting game.

Oh, duh. If anyone out there has suggestions for nifty things to see/do in Baltimore, please e-mail me ASAP (I leave Friday super-early and won’t have e-mail access after that).

Closing in on my first 1K of the night. Hold on—doorbell rang—Maren stopped by to pick up a book I’m loaning her. Hi, Maren! (She’s one of the lovely people actually subscribed to this journal.) Where was I? Yes. Writing. Katrin and Liam are wandering around Trader Joe’s in Santa Celina (which is loosely based on Santa Barbara, at least in my head. Is there a Trader Joe’s in Santa Barbara? I’m not sure. There must be. I need to shop at the local TJ’s more often. Anyway. Onward.) for no apparent reason other than I’m writing whatever comes into my head, which is the point of NaNoWriMo and what Kris & Dean tried to beat into my brain. Just do it. Except now I’m craving Trader Joe’s stuff, like hummus and pitta bread and the cream cheese/sundried tomato/pesto spread. Argh.

Almost 2K. Exhausted. Must sleep.