The past few days have been a blur of freak-out imagery and time travelling. This might suggest that I was hard at work on the new book but sadly I’ve just been sick. Apparently it’s time for my yearly bout of fever.
I realize everyone gets sick and that I sound like a pansy complaining about it but I really do think that when my brain’s temperature rises it does things far far far crazier than the normal human brain. Some examples: I’ll think I’m in high-school again, I’ll try to program my closet, I’ll stare at the fabric of my couch for hours on end, utterly entranced.
Basically I become a loon.
I would love to blame the holidays for this bout of insanity, what with all my germ-filled nieces and nephews running around. Possibly I could blame them while stroking my green chin and knitting a Santa suit for my dog, Max, deviously planning their ruin. However nobody even had a cold over the holidays and they were long gone when my fever struck so I guess I’ll just blame my stupid immune system which functions on the same level as a Ford Pinto.
Anyway, my head is clearing and my couch fibers seems far less fascinating so I think I’m out of the woods here and ready to finally wrap up this book in the new year.