All last week and half of this my husband had a miserable flu. I was counting myself lucky at not catching it till Monday, even then I didn't have a fever, I wasn't throwing up, my stomach was fine... I had a cough and a stuffed up nose. Annoying, but nothing to lose work over. Tuesday, the cough worsened, but I still counted myself good. I'd avoided a killer flu, after all. In the meantime, I'd managed to edit my way through a chapter and a half. I was killing it. This was going to be fine.
Tuesday evening, I started to suspect something might be off and by Wednesday mid-morning, I was glad I had the day off. Calgary was in a literal heat wave and I had a fever. Yeah... I was no longer congratulating myself on avoiding the flu. I had that fever until Friday morning and still feel weak as a kitten now on Sunday. Still, I was able to do a small amount of house-cleaning yesterday and I even managed a trip to Safeway for some groceries and then Subway for dinner.
What I'm getting at here is that I'm clearly getting better... just not particularly fast. My cough is still here, and its entered that stage where I'm certain that parts of my lungs are going to come up and my throat has been ripped to shreds... talking is pretty tough for me right now. I have to get some house-cleaning done as well. We have company coming over today and while my kitchen doesn't quite need to be cleansed with fire yet, I'd rather get to it before we reach that point.
So yeah... this week I managed to complete the first pass of a chapter and a half. I'm keeping my motivation steady by assuring it that as soon as I am not kitten-with-eyes-still-shut weak that we will rock that shit. In the meantime, if I can't adult, maybe I can cat... Meow?