Creaking along...

Didn't sleep well, last night, so all out of sorts through today. Cipro is taking its time to work, though I do wonder if it's making me hungry. Yesterday I bought some California Roll sushi for lunch, today...but ate it last night. With extra Wasabi and soy. And an apple. 

Blood sugar is way crazy, right now, but what's crazy is I could eat another serving of it, right now, and would. Except I don't want to go out. I'm not dressed or presentable in any way.

I become morose when I get sick, and having to wait on test results to come back from the lab on my urine sample adds to it. I don't want to focus on anything except what I can't do. Like have a cup of hot tea right now because it'd be too close to when I took a dose of Cipro, and I make it with milk. Or needing to hit the bathroom every half-hour. Or taking a dump 3 times...again, thanks to the anti-biotic.

I need to finish up the last bit of BA-The Prussian and upload it to Smashwords, but I just cannot seem to make myself hunker down and do it. I open it up then find something else to do. Something completely unimportant. I've taken avoidance to the realm of an art-form, it seems. I'd like to think this is normal for a writer...for anyone in an artistic endeavor...but maybe I'm just burnt out. And can't even get this last little thing done.

It's just, I do want to finish APoS. All three volumes. I want to finish Dair's Window. BA is fun, in a way, but it's really just mm erotica. No deep meaning to it beyond keeping it locked in historical context. None of my stories are just about the sex, which is why I get irritated when they're referred to as porn. That description is a limitation on them...even as it's partially correct. Dammit.

Fuck, I'm truly a cranky beast of an old man.