No real significance
Wow, do I feel icky.
I managed to get to bed before 1 a.m., and then spent the next hour and a half being jolted awake every few minutes with coughing. Had to resort to the Robitussin again just so I could sleep. (Sorry to all the natural-medicine fans, but I'm not going to take the time to do steam at 2:30 in the morning. Sleep trumps all.) I'm starting to debate whether this needs a doctor visit. The last ick that settled so firmly into my chest turned into walking pneumonia, but I don't want to be overanxious about it if it's just a cold, because then my insurance kicks up a fuss. (Insert obligatory state-of-U.S.-healthcare rant here.)
Despite taking most of yesterday off (and doing nothing with it but reading and writing), I do not feel at all rested. I don't want to work today either, but there's no PTO left. [edit: PTO or no, I can't handle it today. I'll figure out what to do about the hours later in the week.]
Last night's costume-anxiety dream: having several yards of a strange novelty-print fabric (it had Redwallesque mice all over it) that I desperately needed made into a rococo gown in some ridiculously short timeframe. Five weeks to the day till I need to pack for Norwescon--I'm thinking I really, really need to get crackin'. I haven't even written down my preliminary plans yet, let alone actually done any of the things that need to be done beforehand.
Today I am wearing the claret velvet/velour Pier 1 dress I got on my last Value Village run, the one that's tagged M rather than my usual L. I'd just like to say, hallelujah for princess seams. Damn, this is a fine-looking dress.
Tonight, belated birthday dessert for my mother, then Gothique meeting with Justin. Hope I last through both.
Mundanity abounds.
I managed to get to bed before 1 a.m., and then spent the next hour and a half being jolted awake every few minutes with coughing. Had to resort to the Robitussin again just so I could sleep. (Sorry to all the natural-medicine fans, but I'm not going to take the time to do steam at 2:30 in the morning. Sleep trumps all.) I'm starting to debate whether this needs a doctor visit. The last ick that settled so firmly into my chest turned into walking pneumonia, but I don't want to be overanxious about it if it's just a cold, because then my insurance kicks up a fuss. (Insert obligatory state-of-U.S.-healthcare rant here.)
Despite taking most of yesterday off (and doing nothing with it but reading and writing), I do not feel at all rested. I don't want to work today either, but there's no PTO left. [edit: PTO or no, I can't handle it today. I'll figure out what to do about the hours later in the week.]
Last night's costume-anxiety dream: having several yards of a strange novelty-print fabric (it had Redwallesque mice all over it) that I desperately needed made into a rococo gown in some ridiculously short timeframe. Five weeks to the day till I need to pack for Norwescon--I'm thinking I really, really need to get crackin'. I haven't even written down my preliminary plans yet, let alone actually done any of the things that need to be done beforehand.
Today I am wearing the claret velvet/velour Pier 1 dress I got on my last Value Village run, the one that's tagged M rather than my usual L. I'd just like to say, hallelujah for princess seams. Damn, this is a fine-looking dress.
Tonight, belated birthday dessert for my mother, then Gothique meeting with Justin. Hope I last through both.
Mundanity abounds.