I am fighting off a cold. It doesn't quite have me in its grip, yet. But there's this nasal-drip and congestion that made me feel all day as though I'd just had a good cry. Chose an early bedtime (and getting up just to write this) instead of staying up late for the novel (apart from 1 new paragraph).
But I do not feel at all worried, somehow. I feel completely sure that I'll be able to make the goal. Hope springs eternal. Stubborn determination in the face of adversity springs eternal, too. But that doesn't have the same ring to it.
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