I came home early from work yesterday after a bout of vertigo that almost laid me out on the lobby floor. I had been feeling dizzy off and on for a couple of hours, and ignoring it. Thinking that some coffee would set me right, I went downstairs to Starbucks. As I was heading back toward the escalator, I must have turned my head a certain way, and the floor began to spin. I held tight to my coffee (!), grabbed the escalator handrail and stepped on, and wheee! began to ascend.

I didn’t stay much longer at work after that. I drove home verrry carefully.

I stayed home today, too. It was debilitating just to get my son to school this morning. The only thing that really seems to help is staying flat. This happens every few years. It’s probably a virus. I had a cold about a month ago which hung on and on … maybe it’s moved to my inner ear.

Anyway, it wasn’t until today that I realized how funny it was that I was reading this book.

It was an impulse buy at Target the other day. I’m a sucker for Victorian novels, but this one is very fluffy and is making me impatient. I can picture a green scribble in the margins, reading, “I’m just not buying this.”

I really miss Mary, so I was susceptible to this lesser book.

Mary Russell, that is. I’ve read the whole Mary Russell series, by Laurie R. King, now. I just discovered them this year, and I’ve tried to space them out, like crème brulees. But for the past month I’ve been so deeply immersed in my revisions that I didn’t want to read any other YA, so I allowed myself to go crazy with the series, reading three in a row. Now I’m finished. Mmm, they were so good. I read them all in order, too. Don’t you love falling in love with a new author, and discovering a whole BUNCH of books to devour?

Now I’m off to listen to U2’s “Vertigo,” and Netflix this.