*cough hack cough cough cough*
That's me with bronchitis.
Parents should not be allowed to get sick. It should be one of those laws of nature, like getting hungry if you don't eat, or getting sunburn if you stay out in the sun too long. Once you have kids you should be immune from getting sick. Because what do doctors tell you when you're sick? Get some rest. And what's the one thing parents are involuntarily incapable of, ever? Resting. My rock star husband is doing his best to pick up the slack for me, but even he can't keep up with an bored, active 4-year old and a curious, crawling 9-month old.
*cough cough COUGH*
It feels like my lungs are trying to force their way out of my body via my head.
At least right now he's taken the older one to the YMCA nearby for some indoor basketball, and the baby's sleeping, so I can "rest" -- read: "get some writing work done." Thankfully, the physicality of writing requires little more than parking myself on the couch.
First up: I got my first request for a partial from an agent, yay! I sent it off this morning, so wish me luck!
Second: I've had this idea for a horror short story for a while now. It's been years since I've written straight-up horror, and I kind of miss it. This could be a good exercise for me before I dive into the second book in my "Prophesies" trilogy.
But before I write another word I think the codeine is kicking in. Time for a nap.
*cough cough zzzz.....*