Monday morning I woke up to write and writing went OK for about twenty minutes before I realized I was writing extra slowly and I wasn't feeling so well. Rumbling guts called me away from the keyboard. By breakfast time, I had lost my appetite. Mark usually makes oatmeal--when I brought the spoon to my lips, the oatmeal tasted bitter and wrong.
I stayed home from work on the theory that telecommuting would allow for less obtrusive bathroom breaks.
I wish I could blame the pollen for this, but something's wrong because tea this morning feels unappetizing. I had very little yesterday, and we'll see how far I get on half of what I normally have by now. I'm hoping there are no caffeine-withdrawal headaches involved.
At the very least, this gives me material for characterization.
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