I have made some progress today…check out the word meter over there! Unfortunately, a lot of that was rearranging, editing, and adding to the conference paper to make it work in the chapter. Still–as far as I’m concerned, nearly 50% of the chapter is done enough to send to The Advisor as a draft. I would love to finish the whole damn thing. I really would. But it’s not going to happen today.
I am So. Freaking. Tired.
Yesterday at the doctor’s office I got their very last dose of Thimerosal-free flu vaccine. I’m happy about this. I am ardently pro-vaccination, for adults and children.* I used to get the flu and bronchitis every single winter, before I discovered the wonder that is the flu shot–and I haven’t had the flu since (*knocking fervently on wood*). So. Flu shot = good thing, in my book, despite that my arm is all owie.
But damn, am I exhausted today. I’m actually typing this with my head resting on the back of my chair. I think that nap #2 might actually be in order. I feel tired and generally crappy and I kind of just want to get in bed, pull up the covers, and snuggle with the cats.
I ask you: is that so wrong?
Well, no, except that I really do have deadlines. If I want to get this completion fellowship for next year—and trust me, I really, really do–I have to have two chapter drafts to The Advisor before January 1st.
That’s an achievable goal, isn’t it? I mean, if I can stay awake?
I might have to close my eyes and contemplate this.**
*For the record, I am also ardently pro-copious-amounts-of-drugs-in-labor. If I could have the epidural *before* labor actually starts, I’d be thrilled. Someone recently asked me, “Have you thought about what kind of birth you want?” I answered, “I plan to be medicated early and often,” and from the look on her face, you’d have thought I said I planned to eat my baby. I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep saying it: I. Love. Modern. Medicine. 99% decline in maternal mortality during the 20th century? I like the sound of that. Bring on the medical interventions!
**Remember when this blog was all, “OMG we totally made out!” and “Ooohhh, crap, 15 shots of tequila was a bad idea”? I know. Now it’s all, “I’m sleeeeepy!” and “I’m lonely!” and “Look at the inside of my uterus!” Sigh. I can’t promise any improvement anytime soon, but I am very grateful y’all keep dropping by anyway.