Ah. Well, the serious writer side of me is basking in the glow of praise from a LiveJournal user who is currently reading my novel. I just love it when someone loves what I've written. It swells my chest, not that THAT is necessary, and puts a smile on my face.
And, Savannah's horns start to rise. The frisky, sassy side of me has a hotbed of fuel lately with two recent great reviews. If I didn't have WORK to do for my agent for submissions, I'd have to whip out the WIP and write something steamy. Something with teeth and more skin. Something hot. Or something dark and with tendancies toward slaughter.
On to the bitching, which my son blurts out is a 'bad word.' In defense of me, which it seems that there are precious few are today... Have you ever had a day that it felt as if you could do no right. Yup. "Today is that day, Evie." (quote from The Mummy Returns) Since my hubby set foot to the floor I've felt like the whipping girl. Sorry, but my pajamas are most comfortable when I have the chills. Sorry, my pajamas are most comfortable when the methotrexate is knocking me on my ass. Sorry, but I am not going to get dressed and run around when my guts are gnarled and I feel like crap.
Venom spatter over. Typing over. Arthritis is winning. Dammit.