You know those times when you feel so overwhelmed that you don’t want to do anything? We’ve all been there: like finals week in college, or the deadline before the big meeting, or the days leading up to a major event. To this day, I still remember that dog-awful Women’s Studies final I had junior year at BU; it was the most intense cram-session of my life. And it was a class I took as an elective!
Anyway, I’m currently in the midst of one of those overwhelming moments. And in response, my body has given me the flu.
Twisted, isn’t it?
I just turned in the proofs of Amor and Summer Secrets, coughing all the way to UPS. When I got home, the copy edits for the sequel were sitting on my doorstep. I have less than two weeks to make my changes and send them back. I actually laid on the couch yesterday afternoon with my head on a pillow and read the first 40 pages (though considering the amount of meds that were in my system, I’m not sure how much I can rely on my judgment at the time). I also wrote 1,000 words for my WIP, which I was hoping to finish next month but now I’m not so certain. Damn you, flu bug!
Oh, did I mention that I still do consulting for my former company? And that they’ve asked me to do a newsletter for them in the next two weeks? But they still haven’t sent me the copy.
At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if Hillary asked me to help run her PA campaign. Oh wait, they did call and ask me to attend a rally before the debate tonight. But, sadly, I think my fever and I will be watching it from the couch—completely ruining my husband’s tailgating plans. We wanted to set up an Eagles tent and folding chairs outside the Constitution Center while grilling burgers and drinking cans of Coors Light. “Every time they say ‘healthcare,’ drink!”
Who knows, maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and be miraculously cured. I mean, the Pope is only two hours away. Do his healing vibes stretch this far?
POP-CULTURE RANT: Hillary’s Drexel University Speech
Okay, I get that she’s famous and needs to be “protected” and all, but did the little Secret Service guys with the wires in their ears really need to push me away and cause me to lose my chance at an autograph? I don’t exactly look like Osama bin Laden, folks. Come on, how threatening am I? You see, I have this list of 100 things to do before I die, and one of them is “Meet the President.” I already met John McCain in New Hampshire when he ran for president the last time. So I was hoping to shake Hillary’s hand and solidify the fact that I had “officially” met her. Instead, all I got was this photo of her and Mayor Nutter (note: Mayor Nutter is not the Secret Service guy standing behind her in the close up). Do you think it counts? Anyway, look out, Barack, you’re next on my list! Only, your people don’t seem to be calling me as much as the Clintons…