The last time I had a bought of tendinitis, the worst part was losing the plot on work of all sorts, both the day gig and the fiction writing I was in the middle of. Fortunately, this time I don't quite have that problem.

Which made the quota of words I limited myself to today on Peace Offer was a little bit of torture. I want to go on with it, the words sing and call to me and drive me to put in just a line more, just another page.

And I can't. I know better, from experience. The story will still be there, though, it's waiting and calling to me. So I distract my self with gedanken thoughts for the day gig. Which is another form of work, of course, but it's also a way to make sure I'm not disengaged next time I sit down to write, tomorrow tomorrow, you can all wait for me just a few more hours oh voices in my head...