I have a dream...
That some year I'll spend January not sick as a dog. I had high hopes that by not going to any New Year's Eve parties, I'd avoid whatever horrid bug was making the rounds these days.
No such luck.
I'm basically OK, but yesterday the residual congestion got into my sinuses--and the Cat-Herder's too--and the entire day was wasted in an effort to shake that nasty, headachy, dizzy feeling. Much better today, actually writing, but the Cat-Herder's still down with it. We may end up missing the Robert Burns Night party tomorrow. Sigh. Such a fine, literary excuse to drink too much Scotch on a week night.
Whine over. Back to work now, for a little while at least. At least I figured out why my scene felt so wrong. Now I "just" need to fix it!