I did not smash down the gates of 2018 this week (#SFWApro)

New Year’s Day I was hopeful that this week I’d be awesome. I’d make up for my lackluster performance last week by finishing the Southern Discomfort draft, getting in a Screen Rant, maybe finishing the next draft of No-One Can Slay Her.  I was, alas, optimistic.

The big problem is that I’m the poster child for why people over 50 should get their flu shots and pneumonia vaccines. Twice in the past couple of years I’ve gotten a cold that went nasty: hacking coughing aggravates my asthma, asthamtic wheezing irritates my throat and encourages coughing, coughing aggravates asthma, and suddenly I’m hacking 24/7 and I’ve lost my voice. This time, when I could feel my cold trending the same way, I had the sense to make a pre-emptive strike. I hit the urgent care Saturday morning to double-check it wasn’t anything worse (nope!). I picked up cough syrup and cough drops and used them liberally along with extra doses from my asthma emergency inhaler (doctor sanctioned). While I’m still hacking some today, I’m definitely on the way back to health.

Unfortunately the path there included lots of hacking and because some of the hacking was at night (like an idiot, I hadn’t thought to get a long-lasting night time cough syrup), very little sleep. By Wednesday I was in something of a daze (I’m sure fighting off the bug took a lot out of me too). Thursday I was in a daze, plus TYG is off on a trip (fun one, at least) and prep Thursday consumed a chunk of time (for various reasons, some projects needed my help).

So the end result? Not much done. Today, even though I felt better I woke up late (and I don’t regret it) and I’ve been sluggish. Plus I have the usual challenge of being solo dog parent until she gets back. And they’ve been needy, more so as we haven’t been in shape to give them long walks.

I did get about 1,500 words done on a new short story, checked on an old submission (no definite word yet) and drew up some ideas for nonfiction submissions. I got most, but not all the work done on my next Screen Rant (I’ll wrap up Sunday). And maybe 2,000 words on Southern Discomfort (I’m soooo close to finishing!). And that was it.

Still, beating the virus is more than enough of an accomplishment for one week, especially given my track record.

So cold, even the penguin needs winter clothes!


Filed under Personal, Screen Rant, Short Stories, Southern Discomfort, The Dog Ate My Homework, Time management and goals, Writing

4 responses to “I did not smash down the gates of 2018 this week (#SFWApro)

  1. Zosimus the Heathen

    Ugh, I feel you on the cold thing. It seems that every year, I’m forced to endure the pointless misery of one at least once (though if I’m *really* unlucky, I’ll get two, including one during summer (yay!)); there’s nothing like feeling like rubbish for several days (at best) because some rotten, stinking rhinovirus has decided to set up camp in your body, and use it as the means to produce trillions more copies of its worthless self. One of the worst things I’ve found about being struck down by one (or, really, any other communicable disease) is that it always disabuses me of any romantic notion I might have that should a real-life version of the Andromeda Strain ever break out, I’d be one of the fortunate few survivors; no, I realize when (*yet again*) I catch something everyone else has been coming down with, in the event of such a disaster, I’d more likely than not end up being just another rotting corpse in a gutter within a week or so of the pandemic starting. Um yes. How cheerful.

    On a more serious note, I hate how colds so often prevent me from getting any productive work done – it’s hard to read a book or do some writing, for example, when your eyes and nose are constantly running, and you find yourself letting loose with some lovely, big, germ-laden sneeze every few minutes or so. My last cold was particularly bad in that it not only took a lot longer to go away than colds usually do for me (now that I think about it, it may have actually been the flu), but it messed with the fluids in my head so much that I’d get the most awful dizzy spells (ones that’d start the moment I got out of bed and last practically all day). I ended up having to just forge ahead and do whatever productive work I could manage under the circumstances. Thankfully that seemed to help.

  2. The inability to get much done is frustrating. And I just hate the whole idea that some disease can arbitrarily zap me regardless of what I do. I know that’s true, but I don’t appreciate having it demonstrated.

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