How not to work on a story

So...yesterday, I was sickish. Again. Yes, this is getting Extremely Old, why do you ask? Managed to hang on at work mostly by glowering, came home and collapsed for two hours. Got up, decided that, nope, still felt lousy, and went back to bed, coon cats to the right and the left of me.

Obviously nothing useful was gotten out of yesterday.

This morning, unfairly, I felt well enough to go to the day-job, so I did, only to find that I had work to do. Honestly, what's with that? Over at his place, and in-between his not inconsiderable workload, Steve ironed out some copy requested by the publisher on Very Short Deadline; I checked and tightened, and off it went. Gotta love email.

After work, Steve and I met for haircuts, then came home to do the next piece of rush copy for the publisher, this time me doing lead and him the tightening &c. Off it went. I also slew some SRM bookkeeping before it rose up on its back legs and consumed my keyboard.

Now I'm tired and I want my dinner, and my head is starting to hurt again, so obviously no Real Work will happen today, either.

Argh, I say. Argh, and Gah.