Four days of a sore throat and runny nose. Four nights without using my CPAP machine to regulate my sleep apnea, which means I wake every day with a head full of cotton wool, exhaustion, and nascent craziness waiting to be given form. I slough around the house, coughing up phlegm. I sleep in fifteen minute bursts, before my own biology revolts and wakes me up to start consciously sucking down air again.
I do not trust myself to react to anything, because all my reactions are basically insane: extreme; ill-formed; straight from the exhausted, primal Id. I cannot be trusted to engage with other people. I can barely be trusted with the written word.
I was planning on starting a new project in June – a short, straight-rush project contained by thirty days, just to see if I could manage it.
This is going to make things interesting.
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Welcome to GenrePunk Ninja supplemental, where I occasionally post foundational essays written before I launched the GenrePunk Ninja newsletter, especially if they’re
One Response
Ugh, yes, the fatigue death-spiral that comes from trying to mix a CPAP and a head cold is awful. I had two nights out from a heavy sniffle last week and I still haven’t recovered from it. I hope it clears up soon, Peter.