Oh dear. Now, I flirted with a cold off and on throughout the winter, feeling here and there like I surely was about to catch a cold. But, really, I think that was more a matter of feeling run down in the dark, dreary winter. It happens. Anyway, last week, I thought I was sick and glad to finally just get it over with. Nay nay. This morning, I am sick.
Anyway, I don’t like to talk about being sick. I can comfortably discuss sex, g-d, drugs, booze, philosophy, cults, illness belonging to other people, corpses, crime scenes, death, grief, and all sorts of things a lot of people don’t like to discuss. But being sick? Terribly uncomfortable for reasons too complicated and blurry to get into here.
It’s officially time for the big push with Pilcrow. That’s exciting. Today, I’m working on Pilcrow things a bit and wrapping up the ends on other projects so I can focus on and enjoy the lit fest. That’s my plan, anyway. I’m also a little dizzy and foggy-headed and sneezy, so I’m not exactly knocking myself out.
I feel the travel bug. more specifically, I feel like I want to combine some travel and authorly duties.
This is the French word of the day and I love it:
gazouillis (gah-zoo-lee) noun, masculine
1. twittering, chirping, warbling (birds), gurgling (baby) ;
2. babbling, murmuring (of running water)
Anyway, that’s all I got: begrudgingly admitted cold, urge to travel, urge to travel on business, and cute French word.