Monday starts out with stress hives. I expected them, but still, the itching is maddening. It is very unsettling to have the urge to scratch all over like a monkey. I can’t wait for my morning run–I’ve found that after a half-hour, I get a gush of sweat full of stress hormones I can smell, a metallic-chicken-soup burst, as if one has opened a can of Campbell’s. Of course, then my skin is even more irritated, but the good news is when I get home and wash all the sweat off, the hives decrease by a good ninety percent.
I can’t wait.
Anyway, it rained last night, to the great hallelujahs of my garden AND my back, because lugging the hoses around, while a price I cheerfully pay for having a decent garden, does not for a happy lumbar region make. I always think better when it rains, too. I fell asleep last night while reading, mid-sentence, and the book–an examination of mystery cults in antiquity–fell on my face. Despite this, I like hardbacks and tend to prefer them when it comes to research reading.
Today’s for making some wordcount on Jeremy Gallow, because tomorrow I go into serious second-round revisions on Wayfarer, the second YA fairy-tale retelling. (When we have a cover, cover copy, and a firm publication date I’ll update the book page.) I also need to comb the text and update the series bible. I’ve taken to putting notes etc. for series in a binder; I used to keep it all in my head but I need my RAM for other things nowadays. Maybe I’m getting old.
Mother’s Day was beautiful. The Princess got up early and made cupcakes.
Seriously, she did all that before noon. I’m agog. And this is the year she learns to drive. My baby, my goodness.
Anyway, time for some breakfast–NOT cupcakes, though I’m tempted–and restraining the urge to scratch like a mad monkey. Monday, so far you’re better than the weekend, but not by much. Let’s be gentle with each other, okay? I will if you will…