All Hail the Marvels of Modern Medicine

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Z-pacs are the shit, y'all.

I spent much of this week in a fog induced by a mystery illness that has something to do with the ear-nose-and-throat but wasn't definitively strep throat, or a sinus infection, or the flu. I was fed up by Wednesday, however, and went to the doctor. He gave me a prescription and said, "I think it's a virus but you can have this just in case you get fed up and want to try something." I was like, I'mfedupthat'swhyI'minheredude, but just in my head, because, well, manners.

Anyway. I tried to be patient for about three hours, or the length of a nap (and I NEVER nap), and then I had the damn thing filled at the local pharmacy and took the 2-pill antibiotic blast by 4 p.m. By Thursday morning it was like I was a new woman. I know you're not supposed to take antibiotics all willy-nilly but good freakin' lord, I'm glad Dr. Nonchalance gave me that script or I wouldn't be writing anything this morning.

Lucky you, reader!

Anyway. I have Conditional Good News. Conditional Good News is different than Good News because it involves the Conditional Acceptance. My review of Paper Doll Fetus was given a conditional acceptance by Calyx, so I have to make some changes to the piece based on the editors' suggestions and see if we can come to an agreement. With luck, I can do that later today and then perhaps the Conditional Acceptance will change to a Real Acceptance and then be actual Good News.

If it works out, this will be my first piece of nonfiction published in a long freakin' time, so I'm kinda stoked.

And somehow, over the past two weeks, despite a deluge of grading and meetings I've managed to submit some poems to two journals and my manuscript to a publisher, so at least my work is out there a little bit. It's never gonna get accepted if it doesn't leave my laptop, you know?

Also, this week marks the second birthday of Vampire Toddler and the TENTH birthday of Little Miss Talkalot.

I've been a mother for a decade, man. Weird, right? 'Cause who the fuck put me in charge? Biology? Bad move, biology. (Sorry, kids!)

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