Note: this is not a post about plate mail. It's a post lamenting my inability to clear my plate of the things I needed to get done in December.
The week before Christmas my back sort of locked up. The massage therapist who finally un-knotted everything (after the chiropractor re-aligned everything) said that the amazing charlie horse I had in my back (I tweeted about it for those of you on continents where my screams were not audible) was probably a result of the tension from all the coughing I did while I had bronchitis earlier in the month.
If this sounds like the grumbling of an old man in a rocker on his porch, just you wait.
The day after Christmas, as I was mentally gearing up to hit the last week of the year in a productive frenzy, I got sick again. I'm back on antibiotics, and for those of you following the twitter feed (it's in the lower right of the front page here) you already know that I've got a sinus headache that is giving me toothaches. Sonny, be a gentleman and fetch me that sweater afore I catch another chill.
I'm so wiped out I can't even drive myself to a matinée. If you were hoping to see where True Grit or Gulliver's Abominable Live Action Sit-Com fall in this year's rankings, I regret that I must disappoint you.
Conclusion: The 12 weeks of work I wanted to get done this month have not, in fact, been done. I think I barely hit five. Worse still, lying on the couch playing a video game doesn't feel like a vacation when I'm too doped up to move. My thumbs.
My New Year's Resolution: Get better, be productive, kick art and take names.