I've been down for the count since last Wednesday with whichever bug/bacteria/virus has been circulating through the school-age set. Not that I have children of my own yet, but I do occasionally hang out with my day-care aged godson and his high-school math teacher father. So not a very productive week on the critiquing or writing front.
But Sunday I felt better enough that I could have gone to work if I needed to. So, for the first time in three months, I read for pleasure. and read. and read. and read.
I read all afternoon and into early evening.
Yes, I made whining, unhappy noises anytime my partner tried to pull me out of the book and interact. I just wanted to stay instead the world of Perdido Street Station
It was a good day.