Does anybody remember the old Burger King jingle about having it all "your way"? That was back in the day before the big shiny plastic-headed scary man showed up. I think, though, it was the start of something....
Today, I was forced from my warm cocoon on the couch with the latest Greg Iles paperback and a snoring 65-pound pit bull to go out and forage for cat food and supplies to make it to pay day. After counting pennies and finally just using the stinking credit card (hey, who's NOT in debt these days, right?), I was backing out of the Wal-Mart parking lot when a song I didn't like came on the radio. I automatically switched stations. No joy. The next station I picked was also playing something that wasn't one of my instant all-time favorites.
I found myself a little irritated. Now, granted, the Topamax seems to be making irritation a lot more frequent that it should be for me, but to get irritated over the radio? And then it hit me. I'm used to my lovely little iPod, and a world full of music programming tailored just for me.
As I drove home, radio firmly off, I starting thinking about how many things we customize to our individual wants and desires now. Of course fashion is an expression of taste and all the many shades of it, including hair and accessories, but we can now order our cars customized straight from the factory. We can get laptop computers in a rainbow of colors. There are "skins" to cover graphing calculators (I saw this on a late night voyage to Office Max) to keep them from being mundane tools. We have cases for cellphones and iPod which we can then load with graphics, videos, and music of our own choosing. We can instantly "demand" practically any movie ever made from Internet providers. For the most part, any food we have the slightest craving for (except umeboshi, of course) can be had with a little effort.
Is this good? I am the first to jump on the customize it bandwagon. I own very few things that I have not in some way "tweaked" to mark as my own. I think it's important to be able to express individuality and creativity. I'm just wondering if maybe, just maybe, we're not getting just a wee bit....dare I say it?...spoiled? If we are, is that a bad thing?
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
MRI
Yesterday was my MRI. I came home when 7th period started, and I took my Xanax about 30 minutes before the test started.
I really can't tell you much about it after that. Xanax is some serious stuff. I remember riding in to the hospital. I remember being fascinated by bright colors and saying some really stupid things. I remember being rolled up into the machine and having a plastic grille put over my face, but I didn't feel any fear at all.
The machine wasn't at all like I remembered. It wasn't a huge confining metal tube this time. Whoever redesigned it had a brain apparently. It was still a tight space, but just knowing that only my head was inside it made it better. Of course part of that may have been the fact that I was flying somewhere out in space on the Xanax, too, and wouldn't really have cared if they'd set me on fire. I barely even flinched when they put the dye IV in, and my fear of needles is the stuff of legend.
I'm glad it's over. If I can just somehow adjust to the Topamax (I stepped up the dose last night, per orders), then I might finally be able to get on top of this thing instead of being ground to a fine powder beneath it.
I really can't tell you much about it after that. Xanax is some serious stuff. I remember riding in to the hospital. I remember being fascinated by bright colors and saying some really stupid things. I remember being rolled up into the machine and having a plastic grille put over my face, but I didn't feel any fear at all.
The machine wasn't at all like I remembered. It wasn't a huge confining metal tube this time. Whoever redesigned it had a brain apparently. It was still a tight space, but just knowing that only my head was inside it made it better. Of course part of that may have been the fact that I was flying somewhere out in space on the Xanax, too, and wouldn't really have cared if they'd set me on fire. I barely even flinched when they put the dye IV in, and my fear of needles is the stuff of legend.
I'm glad it's over. If I can just somehow adjust to the Topamax (I stepped up the dose last night, per orders), then I might finally be able to get on top of this thing instead of being ground to a fine powder beneath it.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Stupamax
Today I had to play the organ for our church's Homecoming Sunday since our regular organist had guard drill this weekend. That would have been enough stress, but when I arrived to practice, the sanctuary was full of people so I couldn't practice, and my music director forgot to tell me about one of the choir specials I needed to be able to play. I immediately felt those twinges that in the past have meant a migraine is about to descend from above like the hammer of the gods.
No headache came. Instead, I suddenly had a Topamax moment instead. The lights had pretty little halos surrounding them that shimmered. The notes on the page, when my mind was actually conscious of scanning them, were meaningless spots of printer's ink. My hands, thank God, moved independently of my stricken brain, and as far as I know, everything went well. Everyone seemed to like the offertory, the only portion of the service other than prelude and postlude where I perform alone, so God got me through another one.
After the service, my aunt, our pianist, came over to talk to me, and she found out that I was taking Topamax. She also takes it, and she gave me the most appropriate name for it that I've yet heard: Stupamax. It makes me feel stupefied and act stupidly, so I think that's my new favorite name.
I have a theory about the drug that I'm going to fly by my doctor next time I see him. It seems like anytime I would normally be having a migraine, I get the "stupids" instead. I don't know if that's just a coincidence, or if that's the way this is going to work. Maybe it's just revealing the stupid that was hiding behind the thin veneer...who knows?
Because I'm such a technophile, I tend to make analogies equating my brain to a computer quite frequently. When the Topamax kicks in, it feels like my brain has "too many windows open" or something. Today, the image of a little pop-up warning me that my virtual memory was running too low kept threatening to make me giggle in the middle of the sermon while I was staring at the sparkly chandeliers in the sanctuary.
I'm trying to have a sense of humor about this, but sometimes, especially days like today when mental acuity was needed, it's really not all that funny. Although, I guess if you were watching me weave back and forth on the organ bench, it might have been quite a laugh.
No headache came. Instead, I suddenly had a Topamax moment instead. The lights had pretty little halos surrounding them that shimmered. The notes on the page, when my mind was actually conscious of scanning them, were meaningless spots of printer's ink. My hands, thank God, moved independently of my stricken brain, and as far as I know, everything went well. Everyone seemed to like the offertory, the only portion of the service other than prelude and postlude where I perform alone, so God got me through another one.
After the service, my aunt, our pianist, came over to talk to me, and she found out that I was taking Topamax. She also takes it, and she gave me the most appropriate name for it that I've yet heard: Stupamax. It makes me feel stupefied and act stupidly, so I think that's my new favorite name.
I have a theory about the drug that I'm going to fly by my doctor next time I see him. It seems like anytime I would normally be having a migraine, I get the "stupids" instead. I don't know if that's just a coincidence, or if that's the way this is going to work. Maybe it's just revealing the stupid that was hiding behind the thin veneer...who knows?
Because I'm such a technophile, I tend to make analogies equating my brain to a computer quite frequently. When the Topamax kicks in, it feels like my brain has "too many windows open" or something. Today, the image of a little pop-up warning me that my virtual memory was running too low kept threatening to make me giggle in the middle of the sermon while I was staring at the sparkly chandeliers in the sanctuary.
I'm trying to have a sense of humor about this, but sometimes, especially days like today when mental acuity was needed, it's really not all that funny. Although, I guess if you were watching me weave back and forth on the organ bench, it might have been quite a laugh.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Living with Topamax Part I
I say part one because I foresee this being a running series....
When the alarm went off this morning, I almost could not even drag myself out of bed. My body refused. It simply refused. I managed to crawl across the bed to the phone and called Mom to check that she was up and let her know that I was, our morning ritual, but as soon as I hung up the phone, my eyelids slammed shut again.
I finally made it in to the shower, but the overwhelming sense of exhaustion remained even after the hot water started to flow. Toweling off, I was tired. Brushing my teeth, I was tired. Getting dressed, I was tired. Driving to work, I was probably a danger to myself and others as I fought to stay awake.
There's no reason other than the Topamax for this. I was up til 11 last night, but that can't explain the way I felt. That also can't explain what came later.
Around 10:00, my brain just quit for the day. It packed up its workbag, flipped off the light switch, and went home for a long weekend. Unfortunately, I had to flail around and try to cope with teaching without it. My students were kind, but I hate having to even ask them to be kind because I am weak. Let me tell you now, there's nothing quite as disquieting as having your mental facilities cut in half and knowing it. I felt like everything I was trying to do was being done underwater in a strong current. Words and names for things went missing, a symptom I have whenever I have a really bad headache.
My doctor warned me that I might have the tiredness and some of the same types of processing issues that the migraines themselves bring as my brain chemically adjusts to the Topamax, but my LORD, I am only taking the lowest dose right now. If it's going to get worse in a few days when I step it up to the next dosage, somebody is going to have to nursemaid me to keep me from walking into traffic and forgetting where I live. I hope I adjust soon...
When the alarm went off this morning, I almost could not even drag myself out of bed. My body refused. It simply refused. I managed to crawl across the bed to the phone and called Mom to check that she was up and let her know that I was, our morning ritual, but as soon as I hung up the phone, my eyelids slammed shut again.
I finally made it in to the shower, but the overwhelming sense of exhaustion remained even after the hot water started to flow. Toweling off, I was tired. Brushing my teeth, I was tired. Getting dressed, I was tired. Driving to work, I was probably a danger to myself and others as I fought to stay awake.
There's no reason other than the Topamax for this. I was up til 11 last night, but that can't explain the way I felt. That also can't explain what came later.
Around 10:00, my brain just quit for the day. It packed up its workbag, flipped off the light switch, and went home for a long weekend. Unfortunately, I had to flail around and try to cope with teaching without it. My students were kind, but I hate having to even ask them to be kind because I am weak. Let me tell you now, there's nothing quite as disquieting as having your mental facilities cut in half and knowing it. I felt like everything I was trying to do was being done underwater in a strong current. Words and names for things went missing, a symptom I have whenever I have a really bad headache.
My doctor warned me that I might have the tiredness and some of the same types of processing issues that the migraines themselves bring as my brain chemically adjusts to the Topamax, but my LORD, I am only taking the lowest dose right now. If it's going to get worse in a few days when I step it up to the next dosage, somebody is going to have to nursemaid me to keep me from walking into traffic and forgetting where I live. I hope I adjust soon...
Thursday, October 18, 2007
The Beauty of Books
I just got back from my night class, and I am struck afresh by how much I love reading and literature. We're doing Absalom, Absalom! by Faulkner, and there is almost everything in the world in that novel. It's a wonderful work.
We spent the evening looking at specific passages from the novel and doing close analysis of them. While I know that probably sounds like one of Dante's Inferno levels for many people, for me, it was great. Too often, I'm the one doing all the "heavy lifting" for a work, so when I get to sit with people who enjoy the reading as much as I, it's a special sort of refueling.
Books make that communion possible. The amazing thing about them is that they make that communion possible between any two people from any backgrounds anywhere in the world as long as both of them have read the same work. I've talked with students from all over the world about the ideas in To Kill a Mockingbird, and even though that novel is set in the Deep South of the past, even modern Japanese college students can feel the power and talk about the connections they feel.
This aspect, more than the fantastic escapism, more than the portals to new knowledge, this power to unite, even briefly, even casually, is the best part of books. Through our reading of them, we can learn not just about ourselves, but we can bridge the gaps that are all too large and common in our modern world with simple conversations. How wonderful!
We spent the evening looking at specific passages from the novel and doing close analysis of them. While I know that probably sounds like one of Dante's Inferno levels for many people, for me, it was great. Too often, I'm the one doing all the "heavy lifting" for a work, so when I get to sit with people who enjoy the reading as much as I, it's a special sort of refueling.
Books make that communion possible. The amazing thing about them is that they make that communion possible between any two people from any backgrounds anywhere in the world as long as both of them have read the same work. I've talked with students from all over the world about the ideas in To Kill a Mockingbird, and even though that novel is set in the Deep South of the past, even modern Japanese college students can feel the power and talk about the connections they feel.
This aspect, more than the fantastic escapism, more than the portals to new knowledge, this power to unite, even briefly, even casually, is the best part of books. Through our reading of them, we can learn not just about ourselves, but we can bridge the gaps that are all too large and common in our modern world with simple conversations. How wonderful!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Migraines
I went to see a neurologist today about my headaches. It seems that in addition to all the other bum genes I inherited, a "migraine gene" seems to be one of them. My grandmother had them, but they mostly skipped Mom. Isn't it wonderful to be the generation to which the random gene skips?
The doctor was very nice. I wasn't sure what to expect, but he was actually a double major with English in his undergrad. That's so very rare. He had two really interesting things to share about links between literature and neurological conditions that I had never heard before, so of course I had a good time. Anytime I can learn something new, I'm pretty much happy. Maybe that's a coping mechanism, but through the years and through the medical experiences, a decision to just look at it all as a source of education has helped.
He gave me a prescription for a migraine prevention med to take daily, and I'm to have an MRI Tuesday. Just the thought of being rolled into that tube distresses me. I'm very claustrophobic. He's given me some Xanax, something I haven't ever had before, so I imagine that I won't care what they do to me. The last time I had one, I was only in up to my chest so they could get images of my knee. I remember it sounding like about a million of those windup monkeys playing tin drums. Maybe if I can just keep that image in mind, it won't be so bad.
Well, tomorrow is Parent Teacher Conference Day, and I'm sure that's going to be a barrel of laughs, so I am headed off to bed.
The doctor was very nice. I wasn't sure what to expect, but he was actually a double major with English in his undergrad. That's so very rare. He had two really interesting things to share about links between literature and neurological conditions that I had never heard before, so of course I had a good time. Anytime I can learn something new, I'm pretty much happy. Maybe that's a coping mechanism, but through the years and through the medical experiences, a decision to just look at it all as a source of education has helped.
He gave me a prescription for a migraine prevention med to take daily, and I'm to have an MRI Tuesday. Just the thought of being rolled into that tube distresses me. I'm very claustrophobic. He's given me some Xanax, something I haven't ever had before, so I imagine that I won't care what they do to me. The last time I had one, I was only in up to my chest so they could get images of my knee. I remember it sounding like about a million of those windup monkeys playing tin drums. Maybe if I can just keep that image in mind, it won't be so bad.
Well, tomorrow is Parent Teacher Conference Day, and I'm sure that's going to be a barrel of laughs, so I am headed off to bed.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Homecoming Week
This is our school's Homecoming Week. That means that all normalcy goes right out the window and insanity prevails. Today was Halloween Day in the week of dress-up days. We had costumes both tacky and creative all over the place. I had a mime, Raggedy Ann, a Ninja Turtle, Mario, and Death all in first period.
Tomorrow is "Wacky-Tacky" Day, which, for the past two years at least, the students have largely interpreted to mean they need to come to school looking like something dragged in for questioning from the Vegas Strip. They couldn't understand why the administration wasn't in favor of calling it, even unofficially, "Pimp and Ho" day. No, I'm really not kidding. They honestly couldn't see anything wrong with the idea of being called a pimp or "ho" even in jest.
I fail to see what any of this has to do with the idea of Homecoming. Mostly, it's just a pre-Halloween week of costumes. The only day that has anything to do with the actual idea of our school is the final day, a dress up day for our school colors.
Why can't there be some events designed to focus on the tradition and history of the school, or even some sort of welcome given to the classes of yesteryear who return? Instead, like so many other things that started out meaningfully, it's turned into a meaningless week-long debauch.
I try to tell myself not to be such a grump about it, but I really wish there was more focus on school pride and less simple rebellion against the dress code. There ought to be something to make us all proud to be from Podunk. Then Homecoming might be something worth remembering.
Tomorrow is "Wacky-Tacky" Day, which, for the past two years at least, the students have largely interpreted to mean they need to come to school looking like something dragged in for questioning from the Vegas Strip. They couldn't understand why the administration wasn't in favor of calling it, even unofficially, "Pimp and Ho" day. No, I'm really not kidding. They honestly couldn't see anything wrong with the idea of being called a pimp or "ho" even in jest.
I fail to see what any of this has to do with the idea of Homecoming. Mostly, it's just a pre-Halloween week of costumes. The only day that has anything to do with the actual idea of our school is the final day, a dress up day for our school colors.
Why can't there be some events designed to focus on the tradition and history of the school, or even some sort of welcome given to the classes of yesteryear who return? Instead, like so many other things that started out meaningfully, it's turned into a meaningless week-long debauch.
I try to tell myself not to be such a grump about it, but I really wish there was more focus on school pride and less simple rebellion against the dress code. There ought to be something to make us all proud to be from Podunk. Then Homecoming might be something worth remembering.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Taking It All Back Again
Two weeks ago, I went to see my doctor because I had my usual sinus crap, and his nurse took my blood pressure. Without posting the gruesome numbers here, let's just say it was running high. Not quite "Oh my God, you're about to explode" high, but close. This isn't the first time it's spiked high. I had problems with it in grad school based on diet and stress. I cut back my salt and exercised and it responded beautifully. It also spikes high when I am fighting one of these colds from hell, so I wasn't really worried.
Last week, I went back, and it was still high. Usually, it goes down after a round of antibiotics. Equilibrium is restored, and my body goes back to business as usual. Not this time, though. The life I am living has finally taken its toll. The words hypertension and medicine were mentioned. I wanted to bury my face in my hands and cry. Is there never a break?
I met with a dietitian Wednesday. She was a very bouncy older lady who wears and understands the value of wearing Birkenstocks, so once I got over my initial wariness and she stopped talking to me like I was a person of subnormal intelligence (something I find almost all health care providers do, at least initially), we got along fine. I have to cut my caffeine back to one soda a day (ONLY ONE DIET MOUNTAIN DEW!!!!!), I'm to cut my salt radically, and I am to lose weight.
Normally, this would have put me into a spiral, but to tell the truth, all these things are just symptoms of something much larger. I have done the very thing that the AP trainers warned me not to do. I remember the very first trainer I ever worked with telling me that nothing burns a teacher out faster than AP, that we as new teachers needed to make sure that we gave as much time to having a life outside the classroom as we did crafting and sculpting our lesson plans. I haven't done that.
What I have done is stay too late, sleep too little, eat very poorly and with no attention to the food, sit behind my desk until it gets dark, drive home, and fall down knowing that the next day is going to be a photocopy of the one just finished. I know this sounds negative, but I really don't mean it that way. I love what I do. I couldn't go do it if I didn't. It's just that I've been burning my fragile little birthday candle at both ends with a blowtorch, and the reserves that I once had have melted into vapor and smoke.
I don't take care of myself physically. I don't read for fun. I don't watch movies to relax. I don't see my friends or email the ones who live too far away. I don't have people over for dinner. I haven't produced any new poetry in over a year. I have been so busy submerging myself in trying to be the best teacher I can be that I've almost lost all the other aspects of who I am. This bout with my blood pressure has been sort of a wakeup call for me.
I need to reconnect to the things that are important. I need to take the time to do things that don't have anything to do with my teacher self. I need to try to repair the damage I've done to my relationships with my friends by my inattentiveness and all-consuming absorption. I need to heal the imbalance in my physical self before the problems I'm having become lasting and potentially debilitating ones.
Therefore, from this point forward, I'm taking it all back again. I need to turn around and find my way out of the place I'm in now before all hope of navigating a new path is gone. I don't know if I can change these things now, but I intend to try. Maybe the effort itself will be something that changes me for the better.
Last week, I went back, and it was still high. Usually, it goes down after a round of antibiotics. Equilibrium is restored, and my body goes back to business as usual. Not this time, though. The life I am living has finally taken its toll. The words hypertension and medicine were mentioned. I wanted to bury my face in my hands and cry. Is there never a break?
I met with a dietitian Wednesday. She was a very bouncy older lady who wears and understands the value of wearing Birkenstocks, so once I got over my initial wariness and she stopped talking to me like I was a person of subnormal intelligence (something I find almost all health care providers do, at least initially), we got along fine. I have to cut my caffeine back to one soda a day (ONLY ONE DIET MOUNTAIN DEW!!!!!), I'm to cut my salt radically, and I am to lose weight.
Normally, this would have put me into a spiral, but to tell the truth, all these things are just symptoms of something much larger. I have done the very thing that the AP trainers warned me not to do. I remember the very first trainer I ever worked with telling me that nothing burns a teacher out faster than AP, that we as new teachers needed to make sure that we gave as much time to having a life outside the classroom as we did crafting and sculpting our lesson plans. I haven't done that.
What I have done is stay too late, sleep too little, eat very poorly and with no attention to the food, sit behind my desk until it gets dark, drive home, and fall down knowing that the next day is going to be a photocopy of the one just finished. I know this sounds negative, but I really don't mean it that way. I love what I do. I couldn't go do it if I didn't. It's just that I've been burning my fragile little birthday candle at both ends with a blowtorch, and the reserves that I once had have melted into vapor and smoke.
I don't take care of myself physically. I don't read for fun. I don't watch movies to relax. I don't see my friends or email the ones who live too far away. I don't have people over for dinner. I haven't produced any new poetry in over a year. I have been so busy submerging myself in trying to be the best teacher I can be that I've almost lost all the other aspects of who I am. This bout with my blood pressure has been sort of a wakeup call for me.
I need to reconnect to the things that are important. I need to take the time to do things that don't have anything to do with my teacher self. I need to try to repair the damage I've done to my relationships with my friends by my inattentiveness and all-consuming absorption. I need to heal the imbalance in my physical self before the problems I'm having become lasting and potentially debilitating ones.
Therefore, from this point forward, I'm taking it all back again. I need to turn around and find my way out of the place I'm in now before all hope of navigating a new path is gone. I don't know if I can change these things now, but I intend to try. Maybe the effort itself will be something that changes me for the better.
The New Shelfari Widget
As you can see, I've added the newest edition of the Shelfari widget to my site. Ain't it cool? (Yeah, I know it's not grammatical. So what? I'm off duty.) I love the new design. I like that it shows a rotating assortment of books and that I can pick what shelves I want it to pull from. The graphics are pleasing, too. To me, it's just another nice update from a service that's getting better all the time. Thanks, Shelfari.
Recently....
I haven't written much lately, but hopefully I'll be able to return to a more regular blogging schedule. There's been too much going on lately, and the sinus infection turned into bronchitis, so I've been coming home and sleeping a lot lately.
I've also been fighting a virus on my computer. I am more or less losing that battle. I need Technology to come and take care of it for me. My meager techno skills are insufficient to get this thing off my machine. I have done it damage, but I know it's still lurking waiting to strike again.
On that topic, why the (insert an appropriate word)do people sit around and make these things? What kind of sick freak does that? What's the point? I could sort of understand, if not condone, spyware. At least I can understand the point of it. The little wastes-of-space who send malware out just to mess with people ought to be ground slowly to powder between two large stones, starting with the toes. I can just see them, closeted in their rooms, pushing up their glasses, heavy metal posters coating the walls, giggling in their little cracking, pre-pubescent voices.
What I want is a program that can trace these things to the source and annihilate an offender's computer in a spectacular fireball of doom. I want a message to appear on the screen about 5 seconds before that that says, "This is because you're a stupid little (again, insert a word of your choosing) who deserves to have your backside kicked up around your ears. Go get a life." That would be worth engineering. Technobuddies of mine, especially L, don't you want to make me one of those?
Actually, I know that's not possible, but just the thought of the look of awe and horror on the face of whatever little (word, word, word) caused me to have to fight my computer to accomplish basic tasks the last three days makes me very happy.
I've also been fighting a virus on my computer. I am more or less losing that battle. I need Technology to come and take care of it for me. My meager techno skills are insufficient to get this thing off my machine. I have done it damage, but I know it's still lurking waiting to strike again.
On that topic, why the (insert an appropriate word)do people sit around and make these things? What kind of sick freak does that? What's the point? I could sort of understand, if not condone, spyware. At least I can understand the point of it. The little wastes-of-space who send malware out just to mess with people ought to be ground slowly to powder between two large stones, starting with the toes. I can just see them, closeted in their rooms, pushing up their glasses, heavy metal posters coating the walls, giggling in their little cracking, pre-pubescent voices.
What I want is a program that can trace these things to the source and annihilate an offender's computer in a spectacular fireball of doom. I want a message to appear on the screen about 5 seconds before that that says, "This is because you're a stupid little (again, insert a word of your choosing) who deserves to have your backside kicked up around your ears. Go get a life." That would be worth engineering. Technobuddies of mine, especially L, don't you want to make me one of those?
Actually, I know that's not possible, but just the thought of the look of awe and horror on the face of whatever little (word, word, word) caused me to have to fight my computer to accomplish basic tasks the last three days makes me very happy.
Monday, October 08, 2007
More CI
The one good thing, if there were any good things, about being sick this weekend was that I watched almost all of the 6th season of Law and Order CI while I was incapacitated on the couch. That show just keeps getting better and better. I am really looking forward to the coming season and the fact that the season will be on USA so I can see it.
My favorite episode was one of the last ones I saw. Goren's father may or may not be a serial killer. That would explain a lot, wouldn't it? I love the way the characters keep getting deeper and more complex.
Well, I have things I'm supposed to be doing, and soon it will be bedtime. I have done okay today, all things considered, but I'm pretty wiped out. I probably needed one more day in the bed.
My favorite episode was one of the last ones I saw. Goren's father may or may not be a serial killer. That would explain a lot, wouldn't it? I love the way the characters keep getting deeper and more complex.
Well, I have things I'm supposed to be doing, and soon it will be bedtime. I have done okay today, all things considered, but I'm pretty wiped out. I probably needed one more day in the bed.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Sick
If you're wondering where I am and why I haven't written lately, suffice it to say that I have the sinus infection from hell. Mostly, I'm just sleeping. In the meantime, it appears most people are looking for Elvis Pez, Dr. Who YouTube, Beowulf Boasts, or the Sutton Hoo helmet and sword anyway based upon my hit counter's information....
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