I feel nauseated almost all day long, every day. I’m tired the rest of the time. Now it seems I’ve got a cold, and I’m all stuffed up. My daughter wakes up every single night, and while I try to sing her back to sleep, thoughts of vomiting usually leave me to have to ask my hubby to take over. On the mornings when I get up with her, and my hubby sleeps in, she and I spend a good chunk of time watching TV, as I can’t do much more than slowly shove crackers and ginger ale into my mouth. On top of that, I fluctuate between irritability, anger, and tearing up at stupid morning shows where celebrities collect toys from people to give to the less fortunate. (Oh, Matt Damon, will you ever cease to amaze me?)

I’m totally useless.

I know this sounds like a lame excuse, but all of these symptoms together are making it really hard for me to read through my Dramatists Sourcebook for more theaters to submit to. I just want to watch TV and zone out, so I can forget my ickyness. So far, my goal of getting a writing career in 9 months (32 weeks and 2 days left) is seeming more and more difficult to achieve.