Risen from the dead

I feel like Lazarus in the Bible this morning. At bedtime Saturday I was stricken with flu-like symptoms - chills, feeling feverish - and spent the rest of the weekend in bed. I ate some pizza Sunday, but otherwise I completely lost my appetite.

Monday morning I was feeling very weak, but I managed to work a half day at the paper. Still, my stomach was so unsettled I almost ralphed into my waste basket. All I ate were some french fries from a McDonalds meal, and I barely kept those down.

Came home, completely exhausted, and collapsed in bed at 5:30 fully dressed. Woke back up five hours later and undressed. I got up at six this morning. Finally eating. I'm feeling better, but I am monitoring my blood sugar and blood pressure, they are still both high.

On the writing front, I got a rejection Monday, almost 250 words long - which struck me as strange at first. But when I read it, I realized the editor wanted to explain thoroughly why they ultimately didn't take the story after five months of serious consideration.


The detailed explanation was very nice, but the beginning really floored me: "We are honored that you thought to send a story to XXXX. I'm a fan of yours."

Holy smoke, honored? A fan! I've never had an editor say they were a fan. That's a first.

It was a nice bit of an ego boost in the middle of two days of being bed ridden with the flu.