Last night at around 4:30 a.m., I was convinced that I'd come up with the perfect idea for a long, dramatic SGA story involving the Sioux, torture, clones, a dying Rodney, and at least one Sheppard. I even had a title all thought out. Sadly, though, when I woke up in the morning after far too little sleep the details - and thus this unprecedented masterwork - were all lost. Eep.

The short SGA ficlet I felt compelled to write today, tentatively titled "Consequences" (slight mention of McShep) that deals with my problem with "Critical Mass" and that'll hopefully soon find a beta reader is no competition. Woe me.

Other news on the woe front: My laryngitis is still very much present. I went to work today after two weeks of sick time, tried to speak as little as possible... and yet when I left my desk was still full and my voice almost gone. The doctor has prescribed daily vitamin C shots and more or less forbidden me to talk. So, if you want to get in touch with me about something - e-mail me, don't phone. I'll be staying at home for the rest of the week - not talking. Argh.