No blog Friday

Yow, I missed two days in a row! I didn't expect to make it in here Saturday -- it was meeting day for the fabulous RWI, and I'm the new moderator for our monthly critique session, so I had to be dressed, made up, and in Tulsa by 11 a.m. -- oh, yeah, and awake. Plus, on top of that, it was colder than snot out there, so I knew the odds weren't good for me being ready with enough time (and inclination) to make the trek down here to the office just to blog.

Friday was a regrouping/tweaking day for me. When I finished writing a great Damon scene on Thursday, I had this nagging feeling that something was wrong. Let me rephrase that: I knew something was wrong. I mean, he was doing completely the opposite of what he should have been doing to reach the goal he'd set for himself. So Friday morning I curled up in the Queen chair (okay, so it's just a big, comfy oversized chair that pupper Livvy and I share when neither of us can get rid of the other) with a legal pad and a fountain pen, and I not only worked out that problem but also did a good deal of plotting on Book 4.

Then I had to go to Tulsa and get blood drawn. I'm not a big fan of getting stuck with needles, but they don't really bother me, either, as long as I don't have to actually see them go in. This kid who drew my blood was quick and efficient; it took me longer to get both my jackets off and my shirt and my undershirt sleeves pushed up than it did for him to get the blood. (Did I mention it's been cold?)

What I hate about getting blood drawn is the fasting thing. This time it was twelve hours. Now, I can easily go twelve hours without food if it's my idea. But the instant someone tells me, "You can't eat for this long," I immediately want to scarf down everything in sight. This kid asked if I was fasting, and I said, "Yes, and I'm cranky." He wasn't amused.

Last time I had blood drawn, they were running lots of tests, so they decided to drain my veins. The girl who drew it seemed pretty inexperienced -- she couldn't hit the vein, tried to use too big a needle, stuck me several times. She finally got in, filled one huge tube, then another, then started on a third one. (I don't want to hear from anyone about how little those tubes hold; they looked huge to me, and it's my story, so they were huge.)

So the third gallon-size tube got half full, and it just stopped. Not even a drop was coming out. The girl thought it might be a problem with the tube, so she put another on. Still nothing. Then another tube. Nothing. And it turned out, in putting the last tube on, she let the needle slip, lost the vein, and couldn't find it again. She was fussing and getting flustered, so, thinking to alleviate the tension, I gasped in this shocked, FAKE voice, "Oh, no! I've run out of blood!!!"

She looked at me in all seriousness and said, "No, no, I'm just having a little trouble. You still have plenty of blood left."

I dunno. Maybe blood-stickers aren't allowed to have a sense of humor. Rachel8:22 AM