STR: Zombie Wounds have de-improved. Fever yesterday of 102. Back to doctor, back on antibiotics, four times a day instead of three, anti-fungal cream added to the mix of fun, just in case.
INT: Grad school can be summed up with a hearty “whatever”, but my writing life has been remarkably wonderful. I have ideas and I’m writing them down and I so don’t get it.
WIS: Craptastic. Really, really, really do not understand why I cannot see the gaping pothole of my insecurity before I step right in it and do something utterly, inexcusably reprehensible.
DEX: Zombie Wounds make me limp, but I did not fall over in the driving rain and wind this morning. That this is a good stat right now is bewildering.
CON: It was up for a little while there. Now, not. Still, I’m eating and sleeping okay.
CHR: Pretty down on myself in relation to other people. I’ll get over it once I figure out how to fix it. Half of me wants to think about it constantly so I figure it out faster, and the other half wants not to think about it at all, because it hurts.