Three days left of the the old year and I'm exhausted. I think my thyroid is beginning to act up again. Well, actually, it can't technically be my thyroid since I had that radioactively killed off. But my body is starting to realize, "wait a second, where the heck is my thyroid," and it's wigging out, making me all tired and drained, constantly cold and extremely old. I swear every muscle and bone in my body has aged about twenty years in the past month and nothing wants to work or move. The fact that its winter does not help my symptoms in the least. Can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm anxious to see my endocrinologist in January to give blood... for tests to see about changing my prescription. I'm pretty sure I need some adjustments in the drug department.
And, YAY, I finished my first string of edits on The Stillburrow Crush. Now, I'm waiting on holiday shut down to be over before I turn everything in. That's exciting for me. It also gives me a week of rest. Much needed, in my opinion. Maybe I'll be able to catch up with my critique group... except, I think I need a lot longer than a week to do that. Those woman have been spitting out the stories lately, let me tell you. I think I'd have to quit my day job and stop creating my own work to even think about trying to keep up with reading all their entries.
But, anyway, as you can tell, I pretty much have nothing to report and no fancy topic to discuss, so I'll just, yeah... go now. Have a great New Year. Stay safe, and warm, and dry, and all that good stuff.
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