This weekend was not pleasant. I planned on getting work done; I planned on writing until the pages ran thick with my brain stew. I did not plan on catching a stomach virus (what I originally mistook for a hangover). I can still feel it, in pit of my stomach, clenched and toxic and just waiting for me to fuck up on my diet (I'm working with the no-grease police).
I haven't eaten a real meal in 48 hours—just apple sauce and pieces of bread. I did manage to pump out my Writing the Short Film script; I didn't manage to get work done on my Senior Project. I've been around 30 pages for what feels like months (but in reality, is only a couple weeks). I plan on whipping through the next thirty Tuesday, Wednesday night, Thursday afternoon, and possibly Friday. Then I'm off to Baltimore. Maybe I'll bring along a pad of paper and write it out on the bus ride. I just hope my head will clear and my stomach will unfurl by then.
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