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Sep. 2nd, 2011 01:02 pmI was going to be acutely intelligent today. The trouble is that when one promises oneself this, one's writing turns to wol-speak, with all the words coming out in an interesting order. Today is worse than wol-speak, though, because my fingers keep hitting the wrong keys and my brain can't process basic grammar.
This is because my fever has finally abated and I am in convalescent mode. Or my typing is. Also coalescent mode. Everything wants to run together, ideas and words and tasks. I still have aches and pains, but sleeping from early yesterday afternoon until just now made the difference.
There is a moral to this story, Children. That moral is, that if you are ill enough for the doctor to prescribe you two scripts of Augmentin Forte, then you are ill enough for a day in bed. Not an hour here or two hours there, but a whole day.
I will be working this afternoon, but only sporadically. I shall keep returning to bed whenever I feel a bit tired.
This evening I shall take a break from feeling tired and firmly instruct SBS to show pictures on my television (we all know that my firm instructions are not always effective, but I can hope, this time) so that I can see that very particular episode of "Sex: an unnatural history." The erudite specialists for this episode are Kaaron Warrren, Sean Williams and Marianne de Pierres. How can I give them merry hell for what they say if I don't actually cheer them on while they're saying it? For anyone who can get SBS (mainly Australians) it's at 10 pm on SBS 1.
I did have news of my own today, but the whole illness thing means I just dealt with it and moved on and forgot to tell anyone. This one's for Canberra residents. The Canberra Times has asked me some key questions and there may well be a piece on the Conflux banquet in the Food and Wine section in the next little while. If anyone spots it in the wild, and you wouldn't mind grabbing me a copy, I'll reimburse. Last time I missed the article entirely and my little cuttings book is the poorer.
Speculative fiction gets everywhere - on public television (as sex!), in the daily paper. We're the wild child of literature.
This is because my fever has finally abated and I am in convalescent mode. Or my typing is. Also coalescent mode. Everything wants to run together, ideas and words and tasks. I still have aches and pains, but sleeping from early yesterday afternoon until just now made the difference.
There is a moral to this story, Children. That moral is, that if you are ill enough for the doctor to prescribe you two scripts of Augmentin Forte, then you are ill enough for a day in bed. Not an hour here or two hours there, but a whole day.
I will be working this afternoon, but only sporadically. I shall keep returning to bed whenever I feel a bit tired.
This evening I shall take a break from feeling tired and firmly instruct SBS to show pictures on my television (we all know that my firm instructions are not always effective, but I can hope, this time) so that I can see that very particular episode of "Sex: an unnatural history." The erudite specialists for this episode are Kaaron Warrren, Sean Williams and Marianne de Pierres. How can I give them merry hell for what they say if I don't actually cheer them on while they're saying it? For anyone who can get SBS (mainly Australians) it's at 10 pm on SBS 1.
I did have news of my own today, but the whole illness thing means I just dealt with it and moved on and forgot to tell anyone. This one's for Canberra residents. The Canberra Times has asked me some key questions and there may well be a piece on the Conflux banquet in the Food and Wine section in the next little while. If anyone spots it in the wild, and you wouldn't mind grabbing me a copy, I'll reimburse. Last time I missed the article entirely and my little cuttings book is the poorer.
Speculative fiction gets everywhere - on public television (as sex!), in the daily paper. We're the wild child of literature.