congest

Aches and pains and severely congested noses. "Severely" might be a bit of an overstatement. I tend to overstate things from time to time... Still, my nose is congested and my fingers still ache and oh my aren't Mondays painful? Is this who I have become? A woman (who still feels like a child) with sensible penny loafers (who still hasn't worn them -- they are too pretty to wear! logical.) who complains about Mondays? Apparently. That's okay. I accept myself! I accept my aches and pains and nose! Not true. I am terrified of what is going on with my hands/nerves/tissue. Someone get this girl a tissue, please. My nose! My poor, poor nose!

But I do not wish to write about my nose on this perfectly cloudy perfectly perfect Monday morning. Let me tell you about how I just started reading The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. It is such a fun and eerie book so far! Delightful is a word I would use to describe it. It is "delightful." It is exactly the escape I need right now, as long as there aren't parts in the book about mysterious aches and pains in someone's fingers and a charming British gent with a severely congested nose. I don't want to be reminded of those things, okay, Wilkie? Wilkie is a delightful name, by the way. Wilkie Wiemer.

I can also tell you about the terror I feel in my chest when I think about losing my ability to write. Writer's block doesn't last for five years, right? Like, at that point it's no longer a block, it's just a "can't." The terror in my chest, however, may simply be mucus. I secretly enjoy having this cold because it means I have an excuse for all sorts of things. "Sorry, can't hang out! I've got a cold!" "Sorry, can't come into work! I've got a severely congested nose!" "Sorry, can't grow up and put on my big girl penny loafers! I've got an excessive amount of mucus!"

Well, ho hum. Writing about my inability to write is simultaneously confusing and boring. Complaining about Mondays lacks perspective and imagination. Blowing my nose about a billion times in an hour is almost as delightful as Wilkie and his book. I have to start being more creative with my posts. These last dozen or so have been, to put it mildly, lame. Thanks for sticking around and reading, though. I promise with all of my severely sincere heart that my words and thoughts will improve. Just give me a sec. And a tissue.