Yes I am, but not quite 100%, which means several thing. No kissing, other than on the neck. So necking, as such, is right on. Actually, I rather like it. M's neck is just scrummy, though his hair - which is rather long - tickled my nose. I aim for right behind the ear, which means if I'm sneaky I get a little nibble on his lobe in as well. Mmm .... Sorry, it's probably way too much information.
We were going to to carry on recording tomorrow, but as M's getting over the same thing - he's two days behind me - we really don't want to re-infect ourselves, and certainly don't want to infect the guitarist.
I've been thinking about writing a lot over the last few days and have come to a rather large decision. The train of thought started as I was reading Grasshopper's 'Just One Starfish': continued as I read Cole Parker's 'When He Was Five', and I'm still pondering as I'm in the middle of Jesse Hajicek's brilliant 'The God Eaters'.
I write short stories. I like writing short stories because as far as novels go they are pretty much instant gratification: a wank as opposed to a night of real love, if you will. And why? Because I'm bloody lazy. And perhaps ... perhaps I don't have the mind for anything longer. I don't know. But I soon will.
My decision is not to write any more of anything (blogging and tarting on the boards aside) until I finish one of the novels I've started.
Wish me luck!