hey, Mickey!

I'm sick. Sick-sick-sick-sick-sick! And grumpy. Ugh. I'll skip the gruesome details but fever is up and breathing is noisy. 'Nuff said.

I should be at the Royal Alexandra theatre in Toronto right now, watching a performance of Pippin staring Mickey Dolenz. If you promise not to do the math, I'll confess to being a silly fangirl when Mickey was a Monkee (the first time), way back when. So my grumpy is heartfelt. I am miserable. Oh!heavysigh!

And as if that's not reason enough to be grumpy, I've been feeling too shivery and ill to write. My fevered, sleeping brain runs wild and free with characters and plot and then ... I wake up blank-minded.

Check the NaNoWriMo widgit in the sidebar and you'll see that my word count has crept up to just over the 3000 mark since November 1st. An astounding average of 439 words! every! single! day! At this rate, I should be able to complete my first draft by the end of February, a scant three months after deadline.

I keep telling myself there's still time to catch up, all I have to do is get better. Samcat's idea of "helping" me recover is to meow like a banshee and paw-slap my poor sorry face every time his sleep is interrupted by wheezing, coughing, or other sickly sounds. Not that I blame him. It's disgusting. Really. Sniff.

Enough! I can no longer see the screen through my watery eyes. It's time for another dose of the cure. Got a 'feel better' strategy that works fast? Please share. I'm desperate!