But, more interestingly, it had an unexpected benefit to my breathing. I don't even bother bringing up the fact that I have trouble breathing with my docs anymore. They've run all the tests they can come up with and can't find any structural cause, so as long as I'm not at risk for asphyxiation, I just deal with it when it pops up. But the Tramadol loosened the tension in my chest, and I was able to take deep, unfettered breaths.
Neat! Tramadol can be habit-forming, so I have to use it sparingly, but I'm well pleased to have something that works. Less pleased with the insomnia, but it's a decent trade off. And it only lasts 4-5 hours, so now that I know it keeps me awake, I can just take it early in the day to avoid that side effect. Theoretically, at least. God, I hope I don't turn out to be allergic to it.
Had to do an abrupt about face on Tangent's new "we now review poetry" policy back to "we don't review poetry." Unbeknownst to me, Dave Truesdale is adamantly opposed to reviewing poetry. When he came down on my poetry announcement like a dump truck full of lead, no one could have been more astonished than I. No matter how I argued, cajoled, or raged, he refused to give an iota on his "no poetry" stance. Well, crap. I'm extremely disappointed by this turn of events. I've already notified the editors I'd previous contacted, and of course gardenwaltz, and I'll make an announcement on the newsgroup with the next batch of reviews, but I'm massively bummed at this outcome.
Cranked out a several page writing sample for the corporate recruiter guy and sent it off. It's not exactly fiction, but the effort exhausted me and curtailed any energy I had for working on the novel. It wasn't easy or fun, so I'm giving myself Club 100 credit for it.
Club 100 For Writers