Microscopic Motherfuckers

I woke up with a nasty cold this morning, which sucks big, fat, veiny, floppy donkey cock.

It’s never fun being sick.  It’s even worse when you have to use your brain because them germs have a hard-on for sucking out your energy and your will to do anything.  Even blinking can sometimes seem like too much work.  Surprisingly, however, I did manage to get some work done, so hooray for me.

But the worst part – oh, the worst part – was sitting down at my desk and thinking, “I don’t want to do this anymore.”  I mean, after a week kicking my ass over the aliens-vs-zombies debate for the online novel, I suddenly felt like chucking the whole thing out the window, even through the whole thing consists of precious little at the moment.

That, of course, was just the germs talking.  And yes, it’s daunting thinking about all the work I have yet to do before starting the novel.  That’s how it is when you’re starting anything.  As the saying goes, Rome wasn’t built in a day.  And it turns out it wasn’t destroyed in a day either.

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