The universe, I have decreed, is out to get me.
I can tell that you don't believe me, but it's true. This week has been such a stressful doozy that if I could go back in time and just skip these past five days, I would. Really. I've spent the said past five days struggling with a MAMMOTH head cold -- one so horrific that I've seriously been tempted to call in sick every day this week (and didn't only because I would have felt unjustifiably guilty doing so for just a cold), and all I've wanted to do when I get home is crawl into bed with a cup of tea and some Motrin and SLEEP. And to cap it all off, it happened to coincide with a certain time of the month when my hormones are all out of whack.
I've been participating in NaNoWriMo this year, and really I've been so wiped out that the only thing I've been able to get done this week is make my daily word count. And when I say the only thing? I mean the ONLY THING. There has been no housework done. There has been no cooking done (other than the brewing of water for the tea). There wasn't even any KNITTING done until last night (See? I told you this cold was a doozy).
The upside to this whole week is that I have 6800 words written and the toe of a sock.
The downside to this whole week is that I have 6800 words written, the toe of a sock, and a house that has officially reached its capacity for disorganized filth.
This weekend is going to be busy. First on the list? The dishes.
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