As I said earlier this week, I've been splitting my time between writing Zombie Goddess and editing A Question of Balance. It's working well. I get up and write new words until lunch. I pick up Genius Kid from school and edit until supper, then work for a bit after dinner, depending on the night and what's on TV.
Hey, there's many ways to study story.
All this went well until we got a call from the school nurse at nine a.m. on Wednesday. GK was complaining about nausea and a splitting headache. By the time, DH got him home, he was running a temperature of 102F. Since acetaminophen wasn't doing the job, DH ran out to the store to pick up some chicken soup and ibuprofen.
Five minutes after DH left was when the puking started. The real problem there is that I'm a sympathy puker. So I handed a roll of paper towels to GK and hid in my office with the music cranked up. Otherwise, DH would have had two messes to clean up.
GK's fever still hadn't broken yesterday, so I wrote while GK tried to sleep off the bugs he'd brought home from school. On a good note, I was on a roll with ZG and didn't notice the time until five p.m. came around. It explained why I was really hungry.
But a little bit later, DH came into the living room, and I was coughing a little. We were supposed to go to the in-laws to pack up some stuff. I figured it was allergies since the trees are budding in Ohio. I didn't want things to get worse (my in-laws haven't been cleaning their house for some time), so I said, "Let's go over tomorrow."
An hour later, I was showing all of GK's symptoms.
Well, crap on a cracker.
As you're reading this, I might be working past the fever to get words in. More likely, I'm lying on the couch watching Supernatural. I don't feel like ruining my laptop if I can't keep food down.
Next week's a new slate, right?