I’m cold. Very very cold. My computer informs me that it’s a chilly 48 outside, which is wrong for Georgia in October. Hobkin is glued to my leg under the blanket, after shoving his icy little paws on me, and I’m bundled up in thermal attire. Reminds me of why we moved from the Midwest. I hate this “I can’t get warm no matter what I do *shiver shiver shiver*” feeling, an all too frequent one in the frigid north. Plunged in the hot tub yesterday and stayed there until I turned into a sentient prune. Normally I can’t stand having my skin all textured and waterlogged, but I’m dwelling upon the virtues of spending today submerged in hot water.
Aside from a resumption of major fatigue and exhaustion, no adverse reactions to skipping a day of Adderall. Hence, I went back on it today. Interestingly, I’m experiencing effects similar to the first or second day on it–complete with a certain zinginess. Verdict on tolerance: yes. Verdict on dependence: not particularly. It seems odd to have a drop in tolerance after only a single day off, since caffeine takes longer to diminish than that. Could be psychosomatic, I guess.
Warning: There is some nudity on the voting pages.
Not safe for work or kiddies!
Received a 138-day pass from Dark Discoveries with invite to submit again.
That rejection marks another milestone: my 500th rejection since I started seriously writing and submitting my fiction. In that time, I’ve wracked up 65 sales, won an award and been nominated for several, and had eleven reprints in four foreign languages. I’m very proud of what I’ve managed to accomplish. But at the same time, I’m rather dismayed at how far away I am from being able to make a livable income.
Cue agent call with news of a publisher . . . *crickets*