My better half

In writing marathons, clearly, no news is bad news.

Following the onset of the week-two storm, things did not get better,
the plot lost the little momentum it still had,
the sub-plots turned out to be dead-ends,
the characters, who all sounded suspiciously like me in the first place,
suddenly decided they'd said enough already, and simply refused to speak,
and I was left with a new (and rather unwelcome) addition: a particularly annoying 3rd person narrator, who seems to be a clone of my internal editor, on one of her particularly bad days.

To add to these joys, I had two sessions of language-testing in one week, which would be enough to kill the inspiration of a flying Picasso, let alone good old little me.

Then, last night, to cherry-top the proverbial cake, Isabelle fell victim to a bout of particularly violent vomiting which continued with a frequency of about 10 minutes from 6 o'clock in the evening until approximately 4 o'clock in the morning.

Finally, the cherry on top of the cherry is the fantastic migraine that I inherited as a result of sleepless nights, and which has actually made the right-hand side of my face collapse.

So.... the view from here is: things could certainly improve...

On the up-side, despite having lost all the advantage I had accumulated, I still managed today to reach the half-way line,

and with a grand 25015 words, am still a whole 10 words ahead of schedule!!!!!!!

According to the guide, it's all smooth sailing from here. Well, let's hope they know what they're talking about, because smooth sounds just peachy...