![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I've been feverish and bed-ridden, fighting off a cold, for the past two days.
Today the fever's broken, although my body's still weak and (frankly) the fight's far from over. Still, my brain is going "Wheee, I'm freeee! I can think again!" Even though, whenever I try to sketch out anything requiring medium- or long-form structure (like, say, a blog post), the limitations of my current cognitive state become rather abundantly apparent.
Still, my subconscious is absolutely convinced it can write the Great American Novel (and learn three songs on guitar, and do hours of yoga), if I'll just let it. It's a...rather entertaining sense of disconnect.
Today the fever's broken, although my body's still weak and (frankly) the fight's far from over. Still, my brain is going "Wheee, I'm freeee! I can think again!" Even though, whenever I try to sketch out anything requiring medium- or long-form structure (like, say, a blog post), the limitations of my current cognitive state become rather abundantly apparent.
Still, my subconscious is absolutely convinced it can write the Great American Novel (and learn three songs on guitar, and do hours of yoga), if I'll just let it. It's a...rather entertaining sense of disconnect.
