Plague vector

I should be careful when I celebrate–I remarked to a friend on Sunday that I thought I’d conquered whatever con crud germs I might have picked up because I’d been sleeping deep for a week, but feeling just as tired. Immune system in action!

Not an hour after saying that, my sore throat started.

So far, I’ve mostly been able to decongestant the snot into submission, but it gives me a strange sense of false security. I’m perfectly fine, I think, but for an occasional need for a tissue! And then I suddenly realize just how long I’ve been standing in the soup aisle of the grocery store on the way home from work, paralyzed by indecision because nothing at all seems appetizing. I’ll just…look at the labels some more. Some sort of decision process will happen. Right?

I managed soup, and then even managed to choose a movie on Netflix Instant. When that finishes, I might move on to video games. I only own six. Surely that will be a little easier!

Before the plague hit, I had an entry planned, so I thought I’d try to save it before it disappears entirely on the seas of blurry indecision.

It’s the little things that amuse me about having a POV character of the opposite gender. Deeper things are often easier, somehow, because at the end of the day we’re all people. And then I end up approaching something like boxers vs. briefs, and tangent off at length. Shifters are often dressing and undressing, and if I specify something like that, I want to know what impression it gives people. I know individual tastes vary, but what does someone else assume about a guy based on his preference? I know the sort of mental connotations I get about woman who wear thongs. Is one hip and the other dull? My personal sample size is too small to start matching preference with personality traits. An even bigger question: going commando. I know I never would in jeans for reasons of personal comfort (whereas in a skirt it’s more a matter of concern for public appearance). I wonder if the same applies for men? Everyone knows about kilts, after all…

Obviously, I need a captive informant who I can ask more prying questions than just the men in my writer’s group. It could become some sort of first date audition for Dating This Writer. “Thoughts on going commando: go!”

Then again, maybe not.