Anyway, it was when the fever resurfaced I finally made an appointment to see the doctor. Much as I loathe taking antibiotics, he seemed to think they'd sort me out with a quickness. Between the Z-pack and a bottle of cough syrup with codeine, I managed to muster enough energy/voice to stick to my regular work schedule. Even now I'm still a bit husky... and so's my voice! *ba-dum-chick* Seriously, though, between the extreme heat and the feeling like ass, it's been nigh on two weeks since I was able to work out in any fashion. My jiggle has increased exponentially. Something must be done.
I'm sure other stuff has been going on, but it feels like being sick has taken up all of the time and energy not devoted to work. I've been seriously lax in my reading, which is probably why my most recent review was SUPER late, and why I'm scrambling to get the next one in workable condition by tomorrow night. I am, however, taking a wee break to read something for fun (zombie book, guaranteed to give me nightmares. WHY do I do this to myself?). Am a little bit freaked that the blog is launching next week. Please be kind when reading my reviews; I'm still finding my feet. Or voice. Or fingertips. Whatever.
Oh, my garden! You guys, stuff is GROWING! Or at least it was... Everything was going swimmingly. Sure, the cucumber plants were starting to get brown patches on the leaves, but at least I was getting edible produce from the plants. My zucchini was going nuts, my yellow squash just starting to take off, my broccoli beginning to look like broccoli. And then. AND THEN. I'm guessing it was our resident whistle pig, the adorable bastard. All of the lovely, huge, shade-giving, chlorophyll producing leaves on my squash plants were eaten away. Fully half the broccoli suffered damage. One of my yellow grape tomato plants is flattened. It seems I am not destined to grow my own veggies. Boo. So very much boo.
In related news, the deer continue to devour my mini roses. My chives hate me. My catnip is taller than I am. It mocks me whenever I walk by the herb garden. No slugs to speak of, though, so there's that. I do hate slugs.
What else, what else? Did I mention the Crimson Pirates' sixth CD is officially launched? 'Cause it is. My sweetie designed the cover. Don't tell him I said this, 'cause his ego needs no boosting, but it's pretty sweet. Two (three?) of our other CDs are now available on CD Baby.
Speaking of my sweetie, he's directing the NYRF's improv company. He talked me into coming down for workshops a couple of weeks past. I cobbled together a character (one I rather like, by the bye) and braved the dreaded exercises. No aspersions on him; he does a fantastic job running everything, and his cast is enthusiastic and talented. I do, and always have, fear improv. I'll do it, and I'll fake it with the best of them, but it's never easy for me. I shake for a goodly while afterwards. Oof.
I think that's it. Off to read my zombie book. I shall leave you with this:
A vintage photo of a cow licking a bull's face. Totally adorable!
I know she was actually licking him 'cause I was there. True story. No TARDIS involved.