Well, it’s all obvious now: being cold and hot at the same time, having trouble concentrating, having no appetite…this morning I woke at 8 to a scratchy throat, whereupon I said, “nope, staying in bed,” and slept ‘till 11:30—my body apparently required 11 hours of sleep last night, because I’m sick.

I didn’t _feel_ feverish the other night, and the temperature has dropped outside the past few nights, which explains why I was cold, but anyway. Damn. Chicken noodle soup for me today, and a nice hot bath. We’ll still go to Black Oak Lodge this weekend, of course, but it’s a nice, relaxing event, so I’ll be fine.

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Ken called. They asked him to stay another day, which is more than $1K for us, so of course he agreed. But he won’t be back until 9:45 p.m. tomorrow, and we were supposed to leave for BOL at 9 _a.m._

I’ve sorted things out: I’ll pack the car, but then ride up with Cat in the afternoon (I have to be there before 8 p.m. because Ken and I were hosting a reading of a kid’s version of “Beowulf”, which is the theme of the event. “Beowulf”, not kids. So I’ll host it on my own, and convince other people to read out loud because my throat is all scratchy.). Ken will come home, pack his garb, and drive the car up, or if he’s wiped out, he’ll crash and drive up in the morning.

But I’m sick, dammit, and all I was looking forward to was him coming home tonight and packing and dealing with everything because I’m tired and braindead. Whine.

Then, I got the mail. Realms of Fantasy rejected “The Rising”, which I sent in last June. The ed asst actually e-mailed me when she passed the story up to the editor; it impressed her that much (she normally doesn’t let people know). Worse, it’s the Blue Form of Death, with no personal comments. Sigh. I thought it had a chance, you know?

I feel like a whipped puppy right now.

Guess I’ll go back to editing…

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Editing done. Tomorrow I’ll start the indexing. Went to the Autocrat’s Meeting and talked about the event Maren and I are running October; we hashed out a few details and I got some ideas for sites. Maren’s going to do the bulk of the work (I’m working in an advisory capacity, as Laura Holt always wished Remington Steele would). But Maren has school on meeting nights, so I’m the Voice of the Event, or something like that. The secretary, maybe.

I came home and talked to Ken and watched “Will & Grace” and talked to Cat when she got home, and now it’s really overdue for me to go to bed. I hate being sick. Really, really hate it.

Oh, I did send out “The Rising” again, along with three other stories. This puppy can’t be kept down for long.