The Case of the Disappearing Day

   So.  Yesterday, September 1, I was awake for 5 of the 24 hours, and during those five hours of consciousness, I knew exactly what it felt like to be 150 years old.  Call it flu, call it a virus, call it whatever you like; for me, the day never happened.  Is this what it feels like to cross the international date line in the forward direction?  How very strange.  Does this make me a day younger now?  It definitely did me a favor re: calorie consumption.  This morning I woke up returned to human form, and my first thought was:  I'M ALIVE!!!
     So I started my day grateful.  And I'll share something else I'm grateful about.  This week I've decided to put aside my heavy, heavy historical YA novel because, for right now, it's just too hard.  There will be a time when I'm ready to move forward with it, but now is not that time.  Now, I decided, is my time to have fun writing.  So: a humorous MG is the current plan, and my creative juices have been flowing, and I've been making myself laugh, which is always a good sign.

     Sometimes, when you hit a roadblock, a change of direction is exactly what's needed, don't you think?