The Ick Strikes:
Lost my voice night before last, then had my head and throat packed with steel wool all day yesterday. I slept 16 out of twenty-four hours. Came in to work today because I would just assume be miserable at work as at home. I cancelled my overtime gig too, which hurts the pocketbook, but I can't be the hypocrite that calls in sick and then works overtime.
The Dark God Visits:
Peter V Brett's The Desert Spear arrived the night before last as well. Shortly followed by a visit from my jealousy, my personal Dark God. Peter has done it again, this time on a greater scale than The Warded Man, and with a character it is even more difficult to like.
I have not finished it yet, partly because of the Ick, but also because The Dark God commands me to draw out the flagellation and suffer in the knowledge that Brett retains and expands on his abilities. He continues to write original story and deomonstrate his exceptional skills at creating characters who live, breathe, and suffer through changes wrought by the world they live in. The Desert Spear is yet another piece of the altar to my Dark God.
Griffin Vs Rats:
As I am ill, I have not been prosecuting the war as I would have normally. The vile clan of rats goes unpunished. Soon I shall rise again, and reduce their numbers nightly.