Checking in after an afternoon on the sickbed

"This story has taken on a life of its own and I'm not even sure if the plot is solid or if the execution is excellent but oh well, forge ahead! I am proud to admit I am reckless this way.

I would like to point out that I've begun yet another revision for The Hand She Was Dealt and that I've finally, thankfully, crossed the three thousand word mark! I'm officially on my way to finishing this story. I hope to churn out another five hundred words before I turn in because I spent most of this afternoon dry-heaving, slumped on the seat of my toilet; I'm not used to getting sick so when it happens, it always takes me by surprise. When Ate Janice--the latest in a string of house helpers--checked in to drag me to lunch, she found me immobile on my parents' bed. But she was adamant and stern and told me if I couldn't carry myself to the table, then she would bring up a bowl of hot Nilaga and rice cooked the way I liked it (warm, but not steaming hot, and moist). I inhaled the clean and sobering fragrance of stewed whole pepper, polished off my huge plate of rice and steamed vegetables, and downed a mug of ginger tea. Three hours later, I would regret giving into the temptation. Suffice it to say I won't allow myself another few hours of sleep until I've earned it.