Six days, six pages and a cold. This morning, I so wished badly not to have to get out of bed and go to work. Even as I type this I am contemplating how badly I need to go to work this evening. I am thinking that I made a mistake coming to work. My body is now screaming at me. I need to go to sleep. I want to go back and go to bed.
But, I am not going back to bed.
Not now and not for at least a couple of hours. I am toughen it out. It is actually easier for me……
Well, days 6 and 7 were eaten by the cold. Completely eaten. Nothing at all is left of day 7 and all that remains of day 6 is above.
By lunchtime, I forced myself to go home and rest. There was no point in pushing myself and there I have been for the last two days. In bed. In a sorted pjs and comfy clothes. The only part of I enjoyed was having a milkshake for lunch and getting to read whenever I wanted. The spirit was willing but the flesh was contaminated.
I could have and maybe should have stayed out and extra day. But I made it to the end of the day and I am back on track with my pages. Tomorrow’s page will be different than the previous days, less journal and more fiction.