I am not depressed, just sad. Too much cold medication, too much and too little sleep, sinus pressure on the eye making me weepy, and complete lack of motivation, even though I have several projects I am revved up over. But not tonight - I can't concentrate enough to do anything.
I tried reading stories, and I owe tons of reading and feedback both here and to the two or three people I love and miss from HASA, but I keep turning my head sideways so the pressure in the sinus eases - not good when you wear progressive lenses. I feel like a dog when it just can't figure out why it cant reach something on its nose...
I can't concentrate to take screen caps of David -- that should say it all.
And Jim, who also feels less than great, has been asleep since before ten, so I thought I would have a long hot bath, write in Tuor's voice for TM, track down my raven pictures (I want to have them available when Annaliese and Lee come to visit, and get opinions on organizing an raven and fileg gallery -probably in the hallway, but that is also open to suggestion.) I have a long piece (for me) waiting for me to apply myself to writing instead of thinking, I have a journal entry for young Blade that I hope will lead to a shared encounter, and North is a very cranky girl and wants to make some trouble back in Imladris. And I owe some letters, and I need to put away yulie presents (but bending over sux)
I also had no less than *three* emails today that lead me to believe that crap is still happening in my name on another site, even though I slipped away to avoid it.
On the good side - I wrote for that cranky Marc Remillard voice - I had no idea he would become so chatty, but apparently though he is circumspect with others, he likes to talk to himself. He is nearly as bad as Faramir. And I had a package from Avon in Australia with the Viggo Mortensen copy of Pavement, and an article about After the Deluge, and a video tape of David Wenham on that talk show which will need to be converted from PAL. I need to finish packing up her package, which I won't list here as it is a surprise. And my Annaliese says I rock. Not bad for an old broad.
And I had a note from sakubow - I wrote to her about her beautiful Young Brothers Mir art, and she gave me permission to make these:
And in the midst of Nyquil Dreaming I watched a bunch of Cowboy BeBop. Must make Ein icons. And opened a loaf of Atkins Bread and ate actual grilled cheese sandwiches, which I have been faunching for for months. They were relatively legal, but still put Jim right to sleep.
So, now you know. Sorry if I missed you today (and I did miss you!) but I hate this low grade fever- stuff. I just don't feel sick enough to admit I am sick, and that winds me up.