I am sick. I hate being sick. I'm so weak I have to sleep/lie on my bed for an hour before I can do a half hour's worth of activity. I also look like crap, which is not good given that I have an apt. for my headshots to be taken today at 4:40pm. But I wrote close to seven pages the last two days, thus proving I am a real writer. If I can be disciplined when all I want to do is roll into the fetal position and die...then I am a real writer. Even if everything I wrote will probably end up getting cut/re-written anyway :)

Oh, and I couldn't find a sub to teach on Monday, which means I will have to run from picking my brother up at the airport to teaching in Boston. Kick-boxing, while I'm sick. Yeah. Shoot me now? Please? :) Hopefully by then I'll be feeling better. Actually, I am, I ate some oatmeal - and kept it down! - and have started to feel like I'm not as close to death's door as I thought I was. And I rented two most probably awful movies to watch tonight. And am refusing to feel guilty about wasting my time on the latest action-plotless-zero-character-development-with-token-big-breasted-female-sidekick-flick. After all, I wrote (now) close to ten pages in the last two days. And I'm getting closer to the first hundred pages/fourth of the book being done. That's the easy part, though :)

Need to go lie down again. Bye.

- D