Mental mumblings...

The imp had a fever, yesterday.  He hadn't wanted to eat for the past two days, just wanting a lot (and I mean a lot--like, 4-5 ten ounce cups per day) of chocolate milk.  Today, his sinuses clogged up, but he got his appetite back. 

Oh, boy.  I can hear the imp talking in his sleep.  Poor kid--he only does that when he's stuffed up and on Benedryl Elixer.  I don't even want to think about the crazy dreams he's having.

The pixie is trying to transition from two naps a day to one.  Poor thing--it seems like two is too much, but one isn't quite enough, yet.  Not easy on her, her brother, or her mommy. 

I'm finding the plot part of the Greek and Norse gods story anthology--that which might tie it into a novel, of sorts, is coming clearer and easier. If it edges out some of the other stories, I may publish them separately.  It's also coming faster.  But that may also be because I don't have the pressure of dealing with my classes right now.

My other anthology, the one with my older work, is pretty much ready.  I've been debating adding to some of the stories, but I can't tell if that's because they need it, or because I'm procrastinating.  I've got about five discrete thought tracks running at once at any given time--and that's just my conscious mind.  Sometimes things get tangled, and I can't see my own motivations too clearly. 

I know I've been procrastinating revising/updating my textbook.  Part of it is that I can't update the whole thing right now--I'm locked out of my own class site due to bureaucratic stupidity.  Part of it is that I just don't want to even think about teaching another composition class, yet.  I've been teaching without a break for three years, and it takes more mental energy than anything else.  Why do you think so many really good teachers crave the breaks as much as the crappy teachers?  Our brains get fried, good teachers and crappy teachers alike.

It took me an hour to get my kitchen back into shape, after a week incapacitated by a mild infection that made me feel like shit while it was getting cleared up.  My living room took half an hour, and the kids' rooms took half an hour between them (would have been quicker, but they insisted that they would "help mama"). 

I have never spent that little time getting my house cleaned up after a week of feeling to awful to do anything to an acceptable level of messy.  Thanks again, Bill, for suggesting the FlyLady site.