I haven’t written any of my work-in-progress since last Wednesday. I’m not on a strict schedule or anything and, as I’ve mentioned before, I tend to write slowly (one or two pages in a sitting), but I still feel guilty. The thing is, I’m sick. I went to bed last Wednesday feeling great. I had attended a Writer’s Meet-up that night called Shut Up and Write. Members simply meet for an hour at a designated place and just write. Afterward, I treated myself to take-out sushi and ate it while watching Criminal Minds. I went to sleep healthy, woke up at 3:00am with a sore throat and by the time I got up for work on Thursday morning, I had a full-blown head cold. Despite feeling envious after reading status updates from my friends on Facebook such as “ran another marathon this morning” and “engaging in holiday drinks!”, I abstained from both exercise and alcohol all weekend in hopes that I would feel better by Monday morning. I didn’t!
I’ve thought about my neglected novel numerous times over the last couple of days but can’t bring myself to write. My cold has limited my imagination such that all I want for my main character is to have clear nasal passages and peaceful sleep that does not involve a chronic cough. I want to give her a magic lozenge that will allow her to swallow food without feeling like there is a razor blade at the back of her throat. Doesn’t make for exciting reading, does it? Not to mention that staring at the computer does nothing to alleviate the feeling that my head is being squeezed by giant pliers. I’m only able to write this blog because I just spent an hour resting my head on my boss’s desk. He’s in a conference call in another room and my own office has glass walls.
I broke down and made an appointment to see a doctor after work today and hoping he/she will diagnose me with something non-life threatening and prescribe something more potent than the Tylenol Cold I’ve been using to no effect whatsoever. Maybe a Morphine drip. Just kidding, of course. Tis the season to be jolly, not curled up in the fetal position with 40 used tissues at my bed side! And I want to drink wine, not tea with honey. I want to write engaging chapters of my book, not blogs about chronic coughs and sinus headaches! Finally, my birthday is Thursday and I don’t want to waste my birthday wishes on getting over a cold. I have much more lofty aspirations for the year ahead.
Darn it. I just heard a knock. No, not at my door, but on the side of my head! A warning that the brief reprieve from my headache is just about over. Based on my experience over the past few days, any ability I currently have to string words together to create cohesive sentences or at least do so without wanting to cry in pain, will disappear within the next five minutes and so I will leave you now with my best wishes for this holiday season, most especially good health!