My writing time was curtailed this past week thanks to my house looking like a sick ward. For once, though, I am not the one who's sick. Yet.
Two of my three kids have a cold, and my daughter is also recovering from strep throat. My husband and I thought she had an ear infection when I took her to the doctor on Friday, so the diagnosis came as a surprise. And I have to say that penicillin is amazing. Less than 24 hours after her first dose, my kiddo is almost back to her usual perky self, with one exception: She is still having difficulty keeping down anything more solid than Jell-O.
(And before you start saying, but if she's vomiting, how could you think it was only an ear infection? Well, it's because she always runs a fever and vomits when she is sick with a common cold. That's par for the course, unfortunately.)
Also, my daughter is a fan of the Animal Planet show "Too Cute." There are eight episodes streaming on Netflix, and she has watched every one of them twice (some of them three times) over the past three days. This is while she has been curled up on the couch with her favorite puppy-print blanket and her stuffed tiger. At this point, I can tell you just about anything you want to know about Snowball the kitten or Ivan the pug puppy.
The upshot of this on my writing is that I haven't done any since my daughter got sick. I'm about 2,500 words into the story I intend to submit to Writers of the Future, and the deadline is about two weeks away. I need to crack down on the writing every day this week and hope that no one else in my family gets sick.
As for my own health woes, they seem just about over. It's been six weeks since I injured my ribs, and I am 95 percent healed. I can't do crunches or run for farther than a mile or so, but I'm good on just about everything else.