It is my five year blogiversary and I am taking a blogger’s sick day. The irony is not lost on me.
I really don’t know what’s wrong with me. Yes, I had wine o’clock last evening, but I didn’t go too crazy. A few glasses with my husband, a nice dinner, some true crime television and an early bedtime. When I woke up with a headache, I thought, “Oh well, maybe a glass too many. I’ll have some coffee, take some aspirin, everything’ll be great.” It was not. The headache has gotten so bad all I can do is be in pain, and I’m having dreadful nausea. Sorry to complain about my ills; so tiresome of me.
I have spent most of the day in bed, except for one rather interesting interlude at Ilion Little Theatre Club. A group of us read an original play written by a local musician. I really like it. The plan is to present a staged reading of it at the Club’s September meeting with an eye to possibly producing it for real in December. I’d better get going on my own play. I’m not saying mine will be good enough to be produced, but it would be nice if I actually finished something.
Oh dear, I am just blathering on, aren’t I? (I always think that should be “Amn’t I?” “Am I not?” sounds too precious.) I just hate to make a post of under 200 words. But I see I’m over now. Thank heaven. As always, I’ll try for a better post tomorrow and thank you for participating.