Good news: Rich gave me on the thumb's up for my query letter and synopsis for Since When, the two precious documents I need to get started finding an agent much less publishing a book. This is a relief. If no one wants it, I can't say I didn't give it my everything.
Slowly but surely, I've noticed I've been less worried about the killer bug that I believe looms somewhere in my future. It appears that it has moved out of my rearview mirror and has moved back somewhere in the mess of cars behind me where I can no longer see it. Now mind you, this silly crap is just that. Crap. It has no more veracity than my long held belief that I'll die tomorrow (or soon thereafter). But this is a lot less scary. And a helluva lot easier to live with.
But don't you forget, silly girl, you are about to enter the Autumn of Doom. (Sounds very Tolkien, doesn't it?) The same time two years ago when I had some sort of upper respiratory illness from August into early January? The time when one of these beauties made it's home in my lungs? When my lung capacity went from crappy to one-false-move-and-then-you-die capacity? Ah yes, I remember it well.
I heard from Mark, my college boyfriend after my last post. He wanted to make sure that he understands very well what an idiot he was back then and he's not like that anymore. Well, since we speak often, I know you are well aware of what a dumbass you were back then (And what a dumbass I was, don't forget.) And now, you're just a sweetheart. Yes you are.
But I was not a dumbass about the strip poker. (That was actually kind of fun.) Mark, I still love you, and I don't even remember the last time I was pissed at you. (Oops, maybe I do, but it is no relevance here at all.) We were both young and stupid. And hey, look at he bright side, I haven't told the "My First Orgasm" story yet. (If you remember it.) I'm saving that for another day. (Don't you get squeamish on me!)
An aside about first orgasms: I was an utterly fantastic orgasm maven, having oodles of orgasms at will, and had been for eons, alone. Letting myself lose control with someone else, that was a whole other kettle of fish I discovered. You could say I have had some trust issues.
The hot clay pack has done it's work. I'm no longer whimpering. That is a good thing. The Yankees are have tied it up. (This is also a good thing. I'm no longer whimpering.) Hearing and breathing. Let's save it for another day.