LauraJUnderwood
Silly Author Person
One of those lines that comes to me from time to time (From Murder By Death and in the scene where Dame Edith Evans is sitting in her wheelchair after someone tried to poison her and Elsa Lanchester with gas--which also is one of the funniest moments--they are in the room and Elsa says, "I smell gas," and Dame Edith replies, "I'm old, I can't help myself.").
Where was I...oh, yeah, "sicky poo" describes what I have been for the last few days. Caught a flu virus (and I can tell you there are a ton of them out there) that hit mostly my head (though I had the body chills and fever and headaches and sore throat and stuffy sinuses too) and totally wiped out my inner ear for a short time.
I had no balance at all. Kept falling when I tried to walk.
On the second day, I could walk, but not in a straight line.
Today, I am better. I can walk. There are still moments of lightheadedness, but at least when I walk, I don't start listing.
All this of course has cut into the writing time. All I wanted to do was sleep. And today, I had to go to work because tonight we were trying to start a writers group to meet monthly at the library, and my boss let it be known that she had No Clue what to Do!
So I brave the elements (though I could have used another day of rest) and went in, and did my duty.
Tonight, they are predicting Lots Of Snow.
Remains to be seen is my opinion, though there isn't a loaf of bread left to be found at any of the stores. At least there wasn't when I stopped on the way home from work.
Fortunately, we have bread.
But still. One threat of snow, and the stores get stripped of staples. I am starting to wonder if the stores are the ones paying the weather folk to predict storms to push up the sale of old bread and milk...
Nah, surely not...
Then again. The writer's imagination could take something like that and make a story out of it...some way.
We will see.
Laura J. Underwood
Where was I...oh, yeah, "sicky poo" describes what I have been for the last few days. Caught a flu virus (and I can tell you there are a ton of them out there) that hit mostly my head (though I had the body chills and fever and headaches and sore throat and stuffy sinuses too) and totally wiped out my inner ear for a short time.
I had no balance at all. Kept falling when I tried to walk.
On the second day, I could walk, but not in a straight line.
Today, I am better. I can walk. There are still moments of lightheadedness, but at least when I walk, I don't start listing.
All this of course has cut into the writing time. All I wanted to do was sleep. And today, I had to go to work because tonight we were trying to start a writers group to meet monthly at the library, and my boss let it be known that she had No Clue what to Do!
So I brave the elements (though I could have used another day of rest) and went in, and did my duty.
Tonight, they are predicting Lots Of Snow.
Remains to be seen is my opinion, though there isn't a loaf of bread left to be found at any of the stores. At least there wasn't when I stopped on the way home from work.
Fortunately, we have bread.
But still. One threat of snow, and the stores get stripped of staples. I am starting to wonder if the stores are the ones paying the weather folk to predict storms to push up the sale of old bread and milk...
Nah, surely not...
Then again. The writer's imagination could take something like that and make a story out of it...some way.
We will see.
Laura J. Underwood