Cough, cough--Groan--Oh my back!
The past two weeks have shown me something: I'm not getting any younger.
It's not that I'm all that old, but time seems to have gone somewhere. I'm writing a YA novel with the main character being a 16 year old girl. I find myself looking back on when I was 16, trying to pull from my experiences. It'd hard, because, you know, that was AGES ago it seems!
Actually, I can't believe how long it's been. But, over the last couple of weeks, I got sick, got a little better, got much worse, and thought I was about to die. Yeah. A stupid cold that might have made me feel a little bad in the past, but never would have gotten me out of school (my mom was one of those moms that made me go to school unless I was bleeding to death or had a 115 degree fever), had me laid up in bed for almost 2 weeks.
It reminded me of the week my parents went to Israel, and I got stuck with the colon infection. Yes, that IS as bad as it sounds, but it got me out of school for a week.
That memory led to others, and pretty soon, I was lost in Memoryland, replaying all the heartache and angst, boycraziness and dork moment that I had when I was growing up. Actually, it was pretty useful to my book.
At the same time, it just made me feel old. Then I sat on the couch, watched my husband playing video games, and reminded myself that if he could act like a zit-riddled teenage dork then so can I!! Is that a good thing? ;-)
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