I always get sick in November. It’s something I can actually count on, just like death or taxes. November comes, and then comes the head and chest congestion, the sleepless nights, the hacking cough and sore muscles. It sucks. Usually it happens later in the month, and I’d say at least one out of every three Thanksgivings sees me laid up on the couch at my parents house, not even able to eat the amazing turkey dinner.
I got really far in the new rendition of NaNo yesterday, but today I am just not feeling it. The pressure that I will be under in the next few weeks to get it done will be extreme, but totally worth it if I can actually finish this time. I’ve been talking up my confidence to friends, family, and Facebook, so I am in it for the long haul now. I have to finish. I can’t let myself down by having to tell people that I didn’t do it, that I couldn’t do it.
Tonight I am going to have some vodka on ice with lime and hopefully drown some of the sick aches in drunkenness – I’m going to watch The Walking Dead and Hell on Wheels with Dan and just keep drinking until I forget what I’ve watched and it’s suddenly morning.
Also, I got Stephen King’s new book yesterday, 11/22/63, and it is already great. I’m going to read that until I can’t see the words any more, I am going to cover my mouth, and in the morning, hopefully, I will be better.