I have seen death. It's not pretty. It's a fever induced hell that shows no mercy.
I despise Cold and Flu season. It got me in its horrible grasp a few weeks back and finally, after reaching the rock bottom of the flu, I've come out on the other side, feeling much better with only a slight cough to show for. How awful. Fever of 102+ on and off for four days. How ridiculous is that?
Regardless, it hit at the worst time. The start of November is the start of is National Novel Writing Month and I was to sick to get a good jump on this years novel, so for the first time in years, I'm not participating.
It feels a bit odd, to be honest. I used to be completely locked to my computer the month of November, which is completely nuts as my son's birthday is also in November. Makes for a busy month and I have to be truthful, I am liking the calm. I'm not stressed out, I'm not worrying about my word count and I'm not stressing out about my story being complete crap. It's a nice change. I guess had I not been sick, I probably would have started my novel. I'm a sucker for punishment like that.
November is a busy month. Hunter's birthday is next week. Kiddo will be three years old - where did the time go? It's been a stressful, but fun year since his last birthday. The best part of it was the move to our new apartment. It's made some things much better in our lives. Having space is a great thing when you need it. I think back and wonder how all three of us lived in that one bedroom apartment for as long as we did. I suppose you just make things work when you have to and we just made things work. Our lives feel much more normal these days, more organized. I walk into my apartment and I don't feel crushed by all the stuff around me. I just have to convince Bruce to STOP bringing home used furniture. He come home on Thursday with a hutch for a desk. A rough, used hutch that doesn't match anything in our house. I was excited for the extra long weekend I was going to have but then my mood went completely sour when I saw that damn hutch. I understood the reason he brought it home but my god, no. I want it gone, I want it out. It it's not taken care of by this weekend, I am going to do it myself. Why make all this ugly miss-matched furniture? I know its sometimes hard to see stuff that is still useful go to waste, but sometimes you just have to.
I'm feeling a bit crushed down by this hutch. Maybe I'll get rid of it today...