My head is clear, my…

My head is clear, my body is still tired, and my throat feels like it's being stabbed with knives. Stupid cold. I have admitted defeat and e-mailed my friend Toni's son to see if he's available to do some maintenance yard work this week (pulling weeds, spreading mulch, mowing the lawn). Usually I'm happy to do that kind of thing myself over the summer -- it gives me some physical activity and it's pleasing, taking care of my own garden. But right now, rest is the better part of valor, I think. Every time I do something for fifteen minutes, even folding the laundry, I have to go lie down again for half an hour. Stupid cold.

Still, I'm planning to get some writing done this morning. I abandoned our heroine in the bedroom -- she's been on the verge of a sex scene for three days now. Talk about coitus interruptus! Poor thing; I should go rescue her. Valya and Kat are coming to write and Mary Robinette may join us, Neha will be here to work on Kriti Festival stuff (I'm hoping to start reviewing submissions with her today). Productivity and no collapsing is our goal!

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