It’s an incredibly slow day at the office, which would be perfect for running up my word count, except that my allergies are making me absolutely miserable, and that’s all I can seem to think about. So maybe if I let myself whine here a little I’ll be able to suck it up and get to writing. Except, what is there to say about allergy headaches and burning eyeballs other than, “Owww! Please stop!”
Seriously, please? I’d have taken a sick day today if I didn’t already get majorly sick twice last month. There’s no way they’d have believed I wasn’t playing hooky, especially with this being a Friday-off week. So here I am, trying to muster the energy and mental clarity to write and talking myself out of clearing space from under my desk to lie down.
I also talked myself out of going to Starbucks on my lunch hour. The coffee here just isn’t doing anything for me, and Starbucks always perks me up. I don’t know whether it’s the coffee, the exposure to fresh air and daylight, the sugar I always forget to ask them to leave out, or all three combined, but on days like this a Starbucks run usually helps me feel better. But I thought of the expense, both money-wise and calorie-wise, and talked myself out of it, and settled for a diet Dr. Pepper from the 25-cent vending machine downstairs instead, and patted myself on the back for my responsible frugality. And now I’m regretting it, because I still feel like bleah.
Now that that’s off my chest, maybe I can get to work. Write-in’s tonight, and I want to have my word count built up some more before I get there. Besides, it’s stupid to be sitting here clicking refresh on my Google Reader and Friends page when I’m so close to the end. Get it done, Jean, and then get to editing!
Yes ma’am, bossy-pants self. I’ll get on that right now.