Scratchy throat

Y'all.  I can't stop long.  After nearly the whole day in bed, reading and trying to get over a scratchy throat, I just opened this file that I never end up working on, that lingers in the back of my mind much of the time.

And it isn't horrible.  I make no claims for it's skill or interest, but I also opened (by mistake) an old draft of an email to an ex back in 2003 and by contrast, it is so painful I couldn't read it.  The strident whining, the complete lack of perspective - I understand them and I can't blame myself for them, but it's so ungodly painful.  I wish I could have just kept silent.

However, I gotta get back to my novella.  It may not be good, but it's readable, and that feels like progress.  It doesn't matter who ever sees it, but I'd like to finish it.  I'd like to finish something, I can't help thinking, as I indolently laze on the sofa still in my pajamas.  Something besides baking a cake.

So, I gotta go.  Thanks for putting up with me, since I can be both excruciating and overly-dramatic.  I appreciate you.

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Update:  I read the whole thing and made minute corrections, but couldn't get myself to add any of the section I've been writing in my head for 10 months.  Sigh.  Instead I made nearly all of a crocheted moose.

I suppose one could make a case for the moose being more useful.