Bags of mice.

Been sick. Finally crashed from all the not sleeping, woke up with a wicked sinus infection. Look back to last year, year before, not that uncommon for me. Thought I was feeling better yesterday, then slept most of evening. Just dozed right off while listening to June's "I Am Beautiful" album. Woke up at one last night, already on the last tracks of Metric on the old iPod [it's longer from "J" to "M" on my current play list than usual], opted to use the fresh feelings to get some work done. Knocked out my next review[was really surprised by the most recent book], did some notes on Trendsetter of all things, wrote about a 1,000 words just to see if I could. The past few hours have been surprisingly productive.

Sarah sent me a really nice gift yesterday, a poetry book by Nick Flynn. Don't know Flynn's work, like it so far though, and it was nice to get a gift when I wasn't feeling great. Sort of giving it the credit for my recovery today, all told. She's the author of all those Lemondrop articles I'm always linking, and she also does mad work for Pop Eater too.

Have to return some calls today, make some inquiries about that one project I can't really talk about yet. Been putting it off because I've felt like garbage. Probably get that done today.

On the comic front, Justin is posting in his blog again, with a little news on Calamity Cash progress, along with what he's been up to lately.

It's cooler now when I go to get the newspaper in the morning. Fall's coming. Good for me. Head's starting to feel clearer. Hoping this clear head and want to write will find some inspiration soon -- it was good that I could work last night, but what I did wasn't good enough. I just want that one story again. That urge. Something screaming at me, "Tell this tale!" Never could force it. Producing just to produce is fine, but it's not in my nature.


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