This week I had a bit of an unplanned absence from this blog, and my life. Basically, lots of hospital hijinks featuring yours truly went down—you know, coughing up blood, being intubated, getting pumped full of steroids. It was a little like the Exorcist, minus the face covered in pus oozing sores. Happily, I’m back home, and on the mend.
My point in sharing this is both to explain why my faithful Advent calendaring went M.I.A., and to talk about writing. These past five or so days have been the longest I’ve gone in years without writing. It feels very strange, and it made me realize how much I love my daily routine. I might not get anything good written, but I put in my time, and it’s really satisfying.
I know it’ll take a few days to get back to writing, especially since spell check keeps telling me that my words are not actually real words (It’s so picky. My misspellings aren’t that far off). I’m sure I’ll bring back a renewed vigor to my WIP and blah blah blah, but really? I miss it. Anybody else had a similar experience?
I'm off to rest, but I’m leaving a pile of Advent chocolate here for all the doors that didn’t get opened this past week. Enjoy!
|(Image courtesy of Potjie)|