It is four AM. I feel as though I wrapped duct tape around my abdomen five hours ago. I think I did the pharmacological equivalent–downing a percocet by mouth and then flushing a shot of torridol and zofran through my port.
One does not just “eat rice and shredded beef without consequences” when they haven’t had much else besides bread and more bread for the last few days.
Hunger makes you stupid. Pain killers make you brave.
And at the end of the day, if the meat is on sale and the crockpot is in a reasonable enough location for me to haul it up onto the kitchen counter–any stupid mistake is entirely within my reach.
I started taking Kepra earlier this week and I think it’s made some significant improvement in my migraine cycle. I still have to stop myself from overdoing it or immediately have to down 800 mg of ibuprofen if I start feeling the sensation of an invisible, overly-tight headband getting snug around my ears–but otherwise, I haven’t had much to complain about.
In fact, in the last month I’ve taken on more work–both at Global Genes and in freelancing. It wasn’t planned or anything, it just happened to be the way the cookie crumbled and broke apart into melted hot chocolate pieces and paychecks.
My agent and I are waiting to hear back about a pitch for my book. Going through this whole process again–the waiting, the finger-crossing, the begging of the universe to help me find the right words or pictures or gift boxes or liquor that might help me to reach that happy moment of contract signing–well, it’s thrilling, that’s for sure. It’s also soul-draining and extremely humbling at times.
I know it’s been slow-going around here but I do have plans for a few more advice posts and an update video I want to make this weekend.
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