Sent out a handful of emails to different sources asking different questions about psych wards, music rights, car maintenance and more. All, of course, in the name of research. I always feel so weird emailing people out of the blue and saying "you don't know me, but I need to know this for a story I'm writing." At least if I had some sort of publishing cred, they'd actually answer me.
Also, I know that being put on new medication isn't exactly something to write home about but this one might be useful in the long run. See, it's an antipsychotic (I don't think I like the implications) and my new MFC is kind of not right in the head and I'd been researching that particular class of drugs. Now I get to experience them firsthand. I'm sure Hunter S. Thompson was thinking the same thing at some point...
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Friday, July 4, 2008
HARDCORE
Two days ago I noticed a strange pain in my index finger while at the day job. "How odd," I thought, bending my finger to try and clear it. "I haven't done anything more strenuous than drawing blood in the last four hours." By the time I left work, the pain had progressed to a burning sensation that went from my index finger to my wrist. I was understandably worried. I mean, my right hand is pretty crucial to just about everything I do, particularly writing and typing.
As soon as I got home, I looked up tendinitis on Wikipedia and found my symptoms almost word for word. I checked WebMD and discovered that the only treatment is rest and ibuprofen. So, like any rational person, I put a mini ice pack in a sock and strapped it to my hand with some cloth tape I found in the first aid kit. Then I went back to typing that outline. Today I've been wrapping it with an Ace bandage and icing it when I can.
Sorry, online medical advice. You can pry my keyboard out of my cold, dead hands.
In other news, my "office area" has been totally trashed.
This is the result of my repeated searches through the pile for paper to scratch down ideas and the need to flip through an old draft of something to find out a character's last name or the date. I really need to get some sort of desk or at least a file box. I'm also going to have to start putting legal pads in all the rooms again. I can't keep running back and forth from the shower to the makeshift office to write things like shift POV here and tight jeans totally out of character for MMC.
As soon as I got home, I looked up tendinitis on Wikipedia and found my symptoms almost word for word. I checked WebMD and discovered that the only treatment is rest and ibuprofen. So, like any rational person, I put a mini ice pack in a sock and strapped it to my hand with some cloth tape I found in the first aid kit. Then I went back to typing that outline. Today I've been wrapping it with an Ace bandage and icing it when I can.
Sorry, online medical advice. You can pry my keyboard out of my cold, dead hands.
In other news, my "office area" has been totally trashed.
This is the result of my repeated searches through the pile for paper to scratch down ideas and the need to flip through an old draft of something to find out a character's last name or the date. I really need to get some sort of desk or at least a file box. I'm also going to have to start putting legal pads in all the rooms again. I can't keep running back and forth from the shower to the makeshift office to write things like shift POV here and tight jeans totally out of character for MMC.
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