If you get hit by a blizzard in, say, December, it's fun and interesting. You fire up the hot cocoa and watch movies. It's almost like a holiday, even if you don't actually get the day off from work. Colds and flues, while miserable, have that same sense. It's a day off, albeit for lousy reasons--it's change. Something different. It's a sign the seasons roll along, life goes on and everything is as it should be. By March, it's all beating dead equines. I haven't even bothered bundling up lately before going out in bad weather because, hell, I just don't care anymore. Defrost me in spring.
On the other hand, my coffee mastery continues to improve apace. So there's that. By the time summer rolls around, I'll pour a pot of coffee and fucking rainbows and unicorns will spill out of my Chemex.
Work on the novel can be characterized as slow and steady, which is better than sporadic but occasionally fast. I'm just at the verge of writing the big plot point at the end of Act I. More specifically, I'm at the verge of rewriting the first major plot point, because there were elements in the first go that I thought could have been better.
The next bit after that will probably go pretty quick and then it's on into the novel's really bizarre Act II, where things weird up significantly. It goes from Dresden Files to...Roger Zelazny, perhaps. It's going to be pretty odd. I'm looking forward to it--it'll be a significant challenge to write. I'm curious to see what kind of momentum it'll build.