I wrote 1,305 words on the new story, despite another night of too little sleep. And a headache. The headache's still with me, and my stomach doesn't feel so hot, either.
Maybe I'll get more sleep tonight. Maybe the platypus will compose the lost fucking sonnets of Shakespeare while I do.
We're watching Deadwood again, getting ready for the long, long, long-awaited film, due May 31st.