CONTENT WARNING: This post contains heavy whining. Not recommended for the cheery or the unsympathetic.
Man, there are all sorts of things going on that are hindering my motivation to write (slash do anything productive, like cooking dinner and cleaning my apartment). Vacation with in-laws was not nearly as productive on the writing front as I wanted it to be, even when I planned a whole day to dedicate to drafting. (Part of this is Alison Goodman's fault, because her Eona book was driving me mad and I knew normalcy could not be achieved until I finished it.)
Now I'm struck with another cold (remember the last one I had? Yeah, the one I just got over? Kill me), and despite how I've doped up on airborne in mean attempts to fight it, my swollen throat and glands are making me look like a football player. Are colds supposed to be this bad?*
I'm getting my word count done, but only the minimum, and that's pretty sad. I need a self-proclaimed bootcamp so I can get things done. But right now, I think I need some more IB Profen....
*Maybe it's Karma. I fought off about four colds my junior year of college with Airborne and Emergen-C. I think they've all been lurking in my body, waiting to strike...and what better time than the summer before WorldCon?