Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Sick of Traveling


I'm not a great traveler, even when I'm healthy. When I'm trying to fight off a cold, it's much worse. I spent last weekend in San Diego at the World Fantasy Convention, which was a great con that I'd have enjoyed even more if I hadn't been sick. Then there was the trip home. I would think that one could get from Los Angeles to San Francisco with one takeoff and landing, rather than three (two of the landings were in Los Angeles, because they had a leak in one of the cabin doors)--but I guess that's just my opinion. I really, really hope that the proposed high-speed rail gets built.

I got home late Monday night feeling like something death wouldn't bother to warm over. Yesterday I was too sick to unpack, let alone do my blog. Today I managed to empty the suitcases, and now I'm going to crawl back to bed. Somebody told me that our immune system comes from the Neanderthals--maybe I just don't have enough Neanderthal in me. I seem to get everything going around, and then I stay sick for two to four weeks. It's a good thing I'm a writer--at least I generally don't have to worry about infecting my co-workers.

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