Ok, #facepalm. Was looking for a pic of a cat typing and ran smack dab into a half mummified cat being used by med students, wtf. +_+
Aaaaand this just saved my day.
So I was trying to figure out how in the world 13,000 words could kill me, because I write all the time, years of handwritten notes in spirals, multiple blog posts, resuscitating code wrecks, and it hit me- if I'm up nearly around the clock for ten days recoding, proofreading, and still doing daily life stuff on top of shooting the ultimate writing curl, I'm probably lucky I don't have bloody stumps.
That cat is irritating, isn't it? >=) heehee
In case Larry reads this and thinks I sat here the whole time, *dude*, the hypomania had me doing hour long workouts, cleaning out drawers, and generally springing around the house wondering if I should wash windows in between typing spells, except my wrists said hell no to that.
I'm ignoring @bonenado reading headlines to me out of the Sunday paper and yapping the latest gossip at me about what's happening down the street. As long as we don't hear a gun go off, I'm good, leave me alone with my warm laptop on my wrists. Maybe I can find some beautiful distraction and a snack while Scott thinks I'm listening to him about his fantasy baseball team.