I’m sick. Head cold, and chest thing. Sitting here beneath my comfort blanket, a massive, fluffy cover brought over from Greece given to me by a Greek. I hold a bottle of Windex when I use it, too. (Thanks Dee). I was working on some edits for Curse of the Spider King when my brain stopped. I finished one chapter and when I re-read one of my editor’s qeurries four times and still was confused, I decided to call it a night. I’m taking my comfort blanket and going to bed now. Nite. ch: