I…am sick. There aren’t many things I hate but being sick is most definitely one of them. It makes me stupid. I resent the ability of a foreign entity to inhabit my system and make my brain function like crap for an extended period of time. It’s one thing to invite this on myself with scotch but quite another for a microorganism that makes its living off of my sneezes to turn my brain to mush.
I’ve been sick for a few days now so I’m at that point where I honestly can’t tell if my head is muddled from the bug or from the various cold and flu remedies I’ve been taking. Last night I finally asked Fair Lady NyQuil to dance, and she’s a woman who will hit you just as hard as your fever. But it was necessary, the past few nights have been akin to an abusive relationship with my lungs where they keep me up coughing just until I’m ready to jump out of bed and go to my medicine cabinet, at which point they suddenly calm down and I convince myself that this time things will be different, this time they’ve really changed and I’ll be able to sleep.
I can’t concentrate when I’m sick and I can’t write…not fiction anyway. I can construct sentences and paragraphs of this nature, but composing a scene has almost always proven too difficult. I can barely keep track of what room I’m in, keeping track of which of my made-up rooms my made-up characters are in tends to elude me.
I did, however, come to this conclusion many a year ago after a bout of fever when I realized that everything I had written over the past few days had to be completely scrapped and rewritten. This has biased me towards even attempting to write when my head is foggy. I’m wondering, though, if this state of mind isn’t maybe perfectly suited to some other form of writing. Maybe this is the perfect mindset in which to come up with names (something that my sober brain can’t seem to do easily), or to figure out my ending, or to write a one-act play or something.
I have no idea. This is the tail end of this bug and I should be thinking clearly, or as clearly as I’m capable of thinking, by tomorrow or Friday.
Till then I’m boycotting writing but have decided to try something very bold and audacious in the writing department the next time I get sick.