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Shame on the Moon

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The weather has changed again in New Orleans, and, like always, I now am sick again. Stupid, stupid sinuii. Every time. The weather is cooler, but it's still humid; but the evenings and mornings are now absolutely lovely. Yet I am gobbling Claritin like jelly beans--which at least keeps my sinuii dried out, although I still have the attendant headache from hell and pressure behind my eyes. I shouldn't really complain that much; this is the first year in a long time this has happened, but it's still incredibly annoying to have to leave work early (last night) and call in sick (today).

I started reading a book last night once I got home, but it was so bad I had to stop after three chapters. I am sure it would probably get better once the story was rolling--at least keep me reading--and it was set in Florence, but I just couldn't do it. There are too many books in my TBR pile, there is so little time to read, and why am I forcing myself to read a book that it so badly written I wondered about whether it was even edited? Nope, to the donation pile it went, and I picked up a recent non-fiction acquisition, The Tigress of Flori, about an amazing Italian noblewoman I'd never heard of, from whom the Medici Grand Dukes of Tuscany were eventually descended, and started reading it instead. I'll pick out a fiction novel to read sometime today. I am going to try to force myself to stay in the spice mines, rather than spend the day reclining on the couch feeling sorry for myself and not feeling well. (I may do that part of the day, of course. I always reserve the right to lie about in self-pity when I don't feel well.)

Paul was home when I got home last night, which was also lovely. Yay for Paul being home!

Bouchercon is, of course, next week. I am checking into the hotel on Tuesday, so I am probably going to pack over the course of this weekend. It is going to be absolutely lovely seeing so many of my friends all at once, and the schedule is going to be incredibly intense--I am literally refusing to look at my schedule until I check into the hotel on Tuesday--but Paul is going to come stay with me down there as well over next weekend, which will be really nice.

I need to get a lot done this weekend, obviously; I would hate to be worrying about trying to get things done next week during Bouchercon, when I will be on site and literally trying to get business taken care of around spending time with friends and so forth. Utter madness. I am going to need a rest cure when it's all over, I suspect.

I also got a lot of books in the mail--purchases of old novels by Alistair MacLean and Helen MacInnes; many of which I've not read. I went through a period in the 1980's when I was reading both of them (along with Ludlum), but never finished their canons; someone recently reminded me of both, so I went searching for them on ebay, with great success, which pleased me to no end. Of course, that just made the TBR pile even larger...heavy heaving sigh.

All right, I need to get back to the spice mines.

Here's a hunk for today, a Brazilian gymnast:

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