I need a nap, but I'm too guilty to sleep

Yes. I have done the unthinkable. I've sent my child to school sick. I wasn't feeling particularly well this morning, and I thought it was just pre-spring-break blahs on Lulu's part. Now that I'm on the verge of propping my eyelids open with toothpicks just to stay awake, I'm starting to believe I should have kept her home today. She still hasn't called home sick yet, so maybe she is feeling better? I'm certainly not.

I was thinking about lying down, but I feel so awful that Lulu can't that I'm compelled to sit in this chair and work. Ha! I can barely lift my head. I don't need to look at the computer to type, but I would to edit. Can't edit if you can't see the screen. (I apologize if this post is excessively error-riddled, since I'm barely glancing at it while I type.)

I managed about 25 pages of edits last night before I gave up, around midnight. I'm so close to done, I can smell the finish line. And then a quick read-through should finish that up. Then on to the next book. Aah. I have a feeling the main plot of that one is going to change a bit, though. That's the weird thing about setting aside a partial manuscript for a few weeks. I've been thinking about it, and thinking about my characters while editing them again in the previous two novels. I think there's some stuff I need to introduce earlier in the book, and I need to change some of the setup of the "crime" that drives the plot forward. Maybe I've had too long to stew over the details, but then again, stew always tastes better a day after you make it. Great. Now I want stew.

I've already decided to skip chorus tonight. I'm simply too sick to drive. I managed to get to the bank this morning, but I was veering on delirious, so I don't think I'll try that trick again today. Especially not a rush hour on the narrow streets of Downtown Frederick. In my ginormous truck. Parallel parking is beyond my current skill set until I feel better.

I'm off to pretend I'm well enough to be ambulatory, at least for another two hours until Lulu gets home. Maybe we can make stew and collapse on the couch together. At least I won't feel guilty about it anymore.