Category: errands

Let’s Go Dancing

Monday morning in the Lost Apartment after another terrific night’s sleep. I am really going to miss not getting up with an alarm when I go back to work next week. I’m not going to lie–sometimes this enforced rest has been annoying and frustrating and kind of unpleasant, but on the other hand, I haven’t felt this rested in years. This is nice, as is how refreshed I feel every morning, along with the knowledge that I don’t need to shower as part of the waking-up ritual every morning as well. I think as the week goes on I will start trying to get up earlier and go through the usual morning ritual, to get back into practice with it.

Yesterday was a relatively mild and relaxing one. I literally forgot that the Saints were playing–I’d lost track of what day of the week it was–which is just as well; it seems like the game was an exercise in enormous frustration for Saints fans. Granted, we had a better day than Florida State fans, who were seriously robbed. I figured that maybe they’d get screwed, but the Georgia loss made it seem unlikely; and the final spot in the play-offs was up for grabs between Georgia, Alabama, and Texas–and much as I hated to see the SEC left out, it made sense to me. Georgia lost to Alabama who lost to Texas; but Texas’ loss was to Oklahoma, who didn’t have a great year, and that was after Texas beat Alabama, while the Tide was running the table. I figured that would be the committee’s justification for screwin Texas in favor of Alabama; it never occurred to me they’d screw Florida State over and take both Texas and the Tide. This was an odd year, with a surplus of undefeated and one-loss teams, along with any number of two and three loss teams who only lost to undefeated or one-loss teams (LSU lost three games–undefeated Florida State, one loss Alabama, and two loss Mississippi–whose two losses were Alabama and Georgia). It is, I suppose, a good year for the four-team play-off to go out on; but if people think there aren’t going to be controversies and angry fan bases once it goes to a twelve team play-off next year, think again. LSU’s schedule is insane for 2024 (USC, UCLA, Oklahoma, Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, Texas A&M); the only traditional annual games no longer on the schedule are Auburn and Mississippi State. I think people are already mad about next season, based on the final rankings by the committee? There seemed to be a lot of vitriol on the social media apps last night. So, yes, football fan bases can even get up in arms over projections.

I did read David Valdes’ marvelous Finding My Elf yesterday, which was absolutely delightful, and really left me feeling a bit warm inside when I did finish it, and am really looking forward to when his You Spin Me Round comes up in the TBR pile. I think my next read will be Donna Andrews; and I’ll just read her latest two Megs back-to-back. One of course is the annual Christmas mystery–which I want to read for the season–but my brain won’t let me read them out of order, so I have to read Birder She Wrote first before Let It Crow! Let It Crow! Let It Crow! which is also a great title. I also want to do some writing of my own today; the days are slipping through my fingers and I need to prioritize writing more than anything else with the energy I have on reserve. I also watched Joy Ride, which was quite fun, and then we started watching Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, which is extremely well done, and for a television show about monsters–we don’t see a lot of monsters. The story primarily focuses on a young woman who survived the Godzilla rampage through San Francisco, and the whole concept of a world and a humanity that has adapted to enormous monsters, like Godzilla and others (the Godzilla evacuation route and directions in Tokyo was startling) is interesting. Monster movies like this, and the various others about giant creatures from the depths of the ocean or the bowels of the earth terrified me as a child and gave me nightmares. (I’ve never watched any iteration of King Kong, for example, and I think I’ve only seen the original Godzilla, which was a huge mistake as it really did haunt my dreams for years. There was one film about a giant octopus who would unfurl his tentacles to crush a seaside city that I can still see sometimes in my mind.) But I am enjoying this show, and am interested in seeing where it goes; it seems like its primary purpose is to expose some corporation (Monarch) who has something to do with the monsters. There’s also a dual time-line, which you know I love.

The workers just checked in to see if the kitchen ceiling leaked over the weekend, and so they are about to come in and take down the rest of the ruined ceiling in preparation for making it look pretty tomorrow. Yay! I also have my first PT appointment tomorrow morning, so I am curious to see what that’s going to look like. I am going to run my errands tomorrow morning after my therapy, since I’ll already be uptown (it’s near the corner of Magazine and Napoleon), so I might as well head over and get the mail and do whatever brief grocery run needs to be done.

I also started getting better organized yesterday; I got my bills all mapped out for the month (I generally do this after every pay day, after I’ve paid the bills so I know how much debt is still outstanding; it also helps keep me from forgetting to make payments). The desk area looks much better than it did, but I still have some filing and organizing to get done. I’m hoping they won’t be in here for very long this morning; I am going to repair to my chair as soon as they come in and try to read until they are finished, and maybe do some writing once they’ve left. I am terribly behind on everything (hey, I’m starting to sound like myself again!), and so one of my tasks for today is to make a to-do list, as well as a “upcoming submissions date” list so I can try to get some stories back out there.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again later.

Shock the Monkey

Saturday morning, and feeling okay. I ran some errands yesterday–mail, prescription, grocery shopping–and instead of going to Five Guys I stopped and got a very healthy turkey-avocado sandwich for lunch instead, on wheat bread, and it was delicious. I used the wagon to bring everything back from the car to the apartment, but after putting the groceries away was very exhausted. I started reading my next book (Lisa Unger’s Christmas Presents) but didn’t get very far into it. I wound up watching the Oregon-Washington game (to see how their quarterbacks matched up against Jayden Daniels for the Heisman; I am biased but was utterly unimpressed with either of them) for a while, and then just kind of zoned out and watched documentaries on Youtube for a few hours till the game started. I am feeling better, but my energy levels still deplete quickly–probably why my surgeon didn’t want me to return to work just yet.

Last night I slept through–didn’t wake up at five like I inevitably always do and then go back to sleep–and woke up at eight, deciding to go ahead and get up rather than loll about in the bed. I figured I could write my blog entry, drink some coffee, and then head over to the easy chair to read the new book for a few hours before trying to get back into writing MY new book. I also need to do some self-promotional entries today to get back on track on promoting my two new releases, and I also kind of need to figure out where I am at with all of my in-progress projects and make a plan to proceed with everything. I think I am going to go back to trying to plan out my year and so forth, because this scattershot method I’ve been using for so long hasn’t really worked out the way I would have liked; but scattershot tends to do that. I have any number of short stories I’d like to get finished, and there are also the novellas; and I have at least two novels in progress that are up to five chapters but have gone no further than that. I also need to get better organized with everything else in my life, too–my desk area looks better than it has in years as far as clutter is concerned, but it needs to be cleaned and straightened up a bit, and there are other things in my desk–the stack of Scotty books, for example–that don’t need to be here. I rearranged the work space before the surgery specifically to free up space on the desktop, and it did work; this arrangement looks better than the way that it used to look. I want to write today–I think I am going to work on some things for the new book too, so I can really dive in headfirst; I don’t have much of a plan for the book other than I know what one of the driving forces behind the plot is going to be; who the villain is; and who is going to die. It’s all mapped out in my journal, but I need to write it all up into a word document so I can easily reference it. Plus, typing shit makes it seem more real to me, which makes no sense to anything other than my twisted brain.

Sparky has discovered the great joy of knocking over the recycling to look for bottle caps, which are his favorite toy and means I don’t need to waste any money buying him anything; why spend more money when every bottle comes with a plastic cap toy for the little darling? He’s inquisitive and he’s smart–he now scales the drawers like a ladder to get up on the counter when the drawers are closed; if he can’t get up there the usual way. He showed off this new trick to us yesterday when we were putting away the groceries; so there wasn’t a clear space for him to jump up, so instead he pulled himself up by climbing the drawers. This tells me there’s really no point to putting things out of reach because he’ll just figure out a way to get there. Scooter wasn’t especially smart, nor was he terribly interested in toys or playing or anything, but Skittle was smart–and I suspect Sparky is even smarter than Skittle, and he’s getting so big! I think he might even wind up bigger than Skittle. Do I want to have a big, incredibly smart cat? It scares me just a little bit, to be honest. But now he seems to have calmed down a bit, and is a sleeping kitten donut on my desk. He really is a beautiful cat.

We had a lot of rain overnight–flash flood warnings, tornado watches all around us in neighboring parishes, the usual–I slept through it all. I didn’t even notice it was raining last night–without my hearing aids, I can’t hear anything other than thunder–but I am sure the rain helped me sleep. I didn’t sleep for a full ten hours; it was only nine. I was thinking yesterday that I need to start getting used to getting up early again before I have to return to work on the 12th, so it won’t be as horrible as it might be. I had finally gotten used to getting up early, and now I have to start getting used to it all over again, which isn’t going to be very much fun at all. But this is a relatively easy month to ease my way back into work again, with the holidays and extra time off at the end, so there’s that. And then again, it’s Carnival shortly thereafter, which I think is late again? I haven’t looked, but I think we have a late Fat Tuesday again this next year.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the morning. Have a fabulous Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in again later.

destination unknown

Thursday, and I am so relieved that the recovery is going well, and that I can actually start fending for myself. The brace isn’t rigidly locked anymore, and I have a lot more freedom of movement–plus I no longer need that wretched sling, which I hated, and I am no longer attached to anything. Granted, I haven’t been since last Friday, when the pain ball1 was removed Later this morning I am calling to make my first PT appointment, and another referral to follow up on as well. I also slept in my bed last night for the first time since the surgery. I was sleeping super-well in my easy chair, and was a little worried about going back to the bed (I will worry about anything, thanks, anxiety!) because I usually sleep on my left side–which is the bad arm–but I fell asleep lying on my back and shifted to the right side and back a couple of times, but other than that, I was dead to the world. I also slept for another ten hours last night, and I am thinking that I need to get this rest. My body is demanding it, and it feels marvelous to sleep so deeply and restfully–this is what I am always longing for most of the time….but I’m not going to start going to bed at eight once I am back to work because yeah, that would be terrible.

I took it easy yesterday after getting home from my appointment and a couple of errands. The temperature has turned cold (for New Orleans, don’t @ me), which always makes the apartment feel a bit more snug. I did some straightening up, took a long hot shower (still not easy, but so much better than before), and then curled up in my chair with Sparky and J. D. O’Brien’s Zig Zag, which I enjoyed very much (more on that later). I’m still trying to figure out a way to comfortably type with the brace, which isn’t as easy as one might expect. because the brace raises the hand so it’s not flush with the keyboard. It just feels awkward and so I need to find a position to type that doesn’t feel awkward–or I need to get used to it. I don’t know that I’ll have the brace on long enough to worry about Carpal tunnel syndrome, but you know me–anxiety always on the starting line waiting for the starting gun. We also finished watching Bodies, which I also highly recommend. It’s extremely well done, and very clever. If you liked Dark, you’ll definitely enjoy Bodies. I haven’t picked out my next read yet, but I have some incredibly delightful options to choose from. Yay! I love having a massive TBR-pile filled with terrific books by great writers. I am leaning towards Christmas Presents by Lisa Unger; I do want to read some holiday themed novels this Christmas season.

Christ, it’s Christmas season already. I may have to have my annual viewing of A Charlie Brown Christmas soon. I feel more like being in the holiday spirit this year. We haven’t decorated in years (and what little decorating we did was kind of half-assed, anyway) because the one thing Scooter would–in his long, comfortable life as a lap cat–actually spring into action against was the tree. That first Scooter Christmas was the last time we decorated, and I feel pretty confident that Sparky would see the tree as an amusement park, since everything is a toy to him and all he wants to do is play. I didn’t notice until the other day–and maybe it’s a recent development–but Sparky has some orange in his coat. It’s more obvious when he’s lying on his back, but we did end up with another orange cat, even though we didn’t realize it! The string of orange babies continues!

I was also thinking some more yesterday about being a writer–and the many different ways there are to be one. What is the difference between an author and a writer? Are authors artists? What is literary art and what is not, and who decides? Can genre fiction be art (of fucking course)? This was triggered by one of those things on one of the social media platforms where you were supposed to “quote text” my favorite books by women, and right off the top of my head I rattled off five great ones…and then I started remembering more, and more, and still more. I’ve read hundreds, if not thousands, of marvelous novels and short stories and essays and columns written by women. Why were those the five that popped up into my brain at first, why are they so implanted on my brain that I would come forth with these titles; any such list from me will always include The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson and Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, and I will never apologize for that. Which left me with only four, and there were so many options. My mind immediately defaulted to four women writers I love, and then had to pick which of their canon was the best. Then I remembered a beautiful novel about friendship, love and loss that made me weep (Somewhere Off The Coast of Maine by Ann Hood) and thought, damn it, I loved that book and I want it on my list…and then started remembering all the others, the dozens if not hundreds, of other women writers whose works entertain, enlighten, and edify my life. There are so many great women writers, currently and in the past, who wrote so many amazing books that it would be hard to name them all, and I would certainly always forget scores of them. For some reason yesterday I was thinking about Taylor Caldwell–who used to write massive doorstopper books about rich people and industries, as well as interesting historical fiction. If remembered at all today, it would probably be for Captains and the Kings, but that wasn’t one of my favorites of hers–that would probably be Testimony of Two Men, which was about medicine in the late 1800’s and a courageous doctor who believed in modern breakthroughs rather than “we’ve always done it this way”–so of course the entire medical establishment was trying to ruin him as he bravely stuck to his principles and tried to modernize American medicine. I would probably hate it if I read it today for the first time–my politics, ethics, morals, and tastes have dramatically changed since I was a teenager, which was when I read Caldwell–but I do remember it fondly. And there’s Grace Metalious, who wrote Peyton Place; Jacqueline Susann and Valley of the Dolls; Jackie Collins and Hollywood Wives; any number of Agatha Christie novels–I mean, there have always been so many great women writers around. Does anyone remember Rona Jaffe? I’ve always wanted to reread The Best of Everything, and I think I have a copy of it somewhere. Then there’s the scifi/fantasy writers, too–Anne McCaffrey and The Dragonriders of Pern, Ursula LeGuin and A Wizard of Earthsea, the amazing Octavia Butler….as I said on whatever social media platform that was, I could sit here and name women writers who wrote books that I loved all day. Victoria Holt, Mary Stewart, Phyllis A. Whitney, Dorothy Eden, Susan Howatch…seriously. Maybe I should write a book of essays about women writers that aren’t remembered much today? ANYA SETON! How I loved Anya Seton back in the day–and all the crime women–Margaret Millar, Charlotte Armstrong, Dorothy L. Hughes, Mary Roberts Rhinehart, Helen MacInnes, Patricia Highsmith, and Mignon Eberhard, to start.

I bet no one else remembers Edna Ferber–and if they do, it’s for Giant and it’s because of the movie (many of her books became famous films: Cimarron, Saratoga Trunk, Show Boat, and So Big). Now that I think about it, I think she addressed race issues in both Saratoga Trunk and Show Boat….which may be worth revisiting. She was also a member of the Algonquin Round Table.

This entry sounds and feels more like me than the more recent ones have, doesn’t it? I am itching to dive back into the book this morning, after I pay some bills and do some other aggravating chores. I also have a prescription ready to pick up; so since I have to go to a Midcity pharmacy to get it, I may as well make a grocery run on Carrollton.

I didn’t realize what a difference sleeping in the bed would actually make, really.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a blessed Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again a little later, as I really need to do a lot more promo. OH! That reminds me, here is a lovely review of Mississippi River Mischief; check it out! That absolutely made my day–and reminded me that I need to do more self-promotion.

  1. I had a contraption attached to my left shoulder that dispensed a nerve-deadener to the arm, so I wouldn’t feel pain. It lasted for 72 hours, and by the time it was empty, I didn’t have any pain, which was great. I also had to carry it around in basically a fanny pack, so it was one more thing I had to drag around those stressful first 72 hours. However, if you are going to have surgery, ask for one. It was amazing. ↩︎

Hard to Hold On To

So, here I am at my desk in the Lost Apartment and it’s not even quite noon yet. I had my follow-up appointment, ran an errand, and then stopped by the office to make sure my leave had been approved–it had–and then I came home. Sparky is being his usual Big Kitten Energy nuisance self, but luckily he’s adorably forgivable and I love him. Besides, he’s not going to stop until he feels like it in the first place.

Do not fight, or stress about, things you cannot control.

The good news is the recovery is going well, and my surgeon is most pleased with how I am healing. I’ve been freed up to do a lot more, and the primary focus from now on is actually rehabilitation–getting back the range of motion and then the strength. The physical therapy for strength won’t be until February, and he thinks I’ll be done with the range of motion–based on what I already have–before Christmas, which is lovely. I can do everything–within reason–that I usually do other than lift, push or pull heavy things. He actually encouraged me to type–as that will help with finger dexterity, which will help the recovery of the range of motion, and so on. I literally floated out of the doctor’s office, I was so happy and relieved to have the anxiety and stress of the past week gone (at least for now). I don’t have to use the sling anymore (it wasn’t the fun kind of sling anyway), and I can put on shirts, get dressed, shower, basically everything that doesn’t involved the aforementioned things. This is really lovely. I can even sleep in my own bed again instead of the easy chair, which is going to be so fucking amazing. I have been sleeping well anyway–which isn’t always the case when it comes to these things–but it was my body realizing it needed more rest.

I am still going to take it easy, though. I am going to get back to work on my book, clean out my emails, and try to get stuff as caught up as I can. As I have mentioned numerous times, I’ve had to spend a lot of time thinking while sitting in my easy chair this past week, and one of the things I’ve realized–recognized? acknowledged?–is that I don’t need to do volunteer work anymore. I’m getting older and my energy supply doesn’t seem to replenish as quickly as it used to; some days I feel like I am running on accessory and my batteries aren’t recharging to full capacity the way they used to. I’ve been volunteering for one place or the other for decades now, it’s time for other people to pick up the baton or pass the torch or whatever the hell metaphor you want to use for this. I’ve had a bad year personally–not the only person who has, mind you, well aware, and always aware that things could be worse at any moment–and that’s worn me down quite a bit, and I never really recovered my equilibrium after the pandemic started, and especially not since I myself caught the nasty coronavirus. My memory still isn’t as sharp as I would like, and I find myself forgetting things I can’t believe I can’t remember, but some of that stuff was just brain clutter anyway. I know I am going to be less sentimental about the books and will be boxing up more to donate when I am able; I am going to try to resist the urge to bring in more until I have made more progress on the TBR pile.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close, repair to the chair and read for a while, and then spring into get-things-done action after showering…a good, long, hot shower.

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Be My Lady

Tuesday morning and it’s feeling a bit chilly in the Lost Apartment this morning. I am propping the brace on the edge of my desk so I can use both hands–and it doesn’t seem to bother the arm too much to use my fingers. I actually don’t feel any pain, but it feels a bit weird, if that makes any sense.

Yesterday was the first time I’ve felt like me again after coming home from the surgery. I cut up an old T-shirt (well, Paul did; one needs two hands to cut cloth) so I could fit it on over the brace without having to use the arm or move it; my left nipple peeks out every now and again, but that’s okay. Tomorrow morning is my first post-op visit to the surgeon, so I want to think about the things I need to ask about and write them down to take with me. It’s an early appointment–8 am–so I won’t be thinking as clearly as I would later in the day. I’m getting used to sleeping in the chair–I’ve been sleeping ten hours a night on average since that first sleepless night after the surgery, which is very-un-Greg-like, but I attribute that to my body recovering from the trauma of the surgery. I wish it would last forever, though, I really love sleeping.

Paul and I did go run those errands yesterday, and driving wasn’t an issue at all. I think the prohibition on driving in the instructions had more to do with the painkillers (which I don’t need) than any lingering after-effects of the surgery. It felt very nice to get out of the house, since I hadn’t even gone outside (I don’t think) since coming back home last Tuesday–hey, it was a week ago, wasn’t it? It seems like an eternity. I am very impatient to get through this, but of course you can’t rush recovery. I am trying not to get frustrated or impatient, but it isn’t easy for me–I haven’t gotten to the acceptance of things I cannot control yet, sadly–and my emotions are still all over the place. I had a couple of emotional moments yesterday which weren’t great–but those moments are also becoming fewer and farther between, which is a relief. I hate subjecting anyone to my particular brand of crazy, least of all Paul–who is usually the only person who ever sees it, and that is something I don’t like, either.

I didn’t write anything yesterday, the errands exhausted me, and so I spent the rest of the day in my chair. I watched a marvelous documentary series about film horror from Blumhouse–four episodes–which was a lot of fun but nothing really new that I hadn’t already known. It did give me an idea for a slasher thriller in two parts–the original occurrence than a revisitation ten years later; but the worry is, of course, that it’s been done already or I have nothing new to bring to the genre. It’s an interesting conundrum and puzzle I’d like to get figured out; one that will need to percolate for a while before actually getting to work on it. I always worry about how much preparatory work I do for my books, and I also worry I don’t do enough research for them, either. (I love research but also find it frustrating because I never know when I’ve done enough research, and as someone who is always spotting historical inaccuracies in all media…I don’t want anyone doing that to me or thinking that I’m a lazy researcher…although on second thought why the fuck do I care? There are always going to be those people, after all.) I was thinking about that very thing yesterday in terms of two other books-in-progress I’ve been working on for years; I’m not certain that I chose the proper career path given how my brain is actually wired–for someone who gets anxious to the point of shaking sometimes (it was really bad when I was a kid) why would you choose a career where you have to do things that trigger anxiety? I don’t ever get anxious about the day job, for example.

It’s weird but all this down time sitting in my chair unable to focus enough to read a novel (short stories are easier) has given my addled brain the opportunity to think and reflect. This whole past week has been an emotional rollercoaster–I think surgeries tend to make you emotionally raw to begin with–but I’ve also spent a lot of time grieving my mother since coming home last Tuesday. I was always able to engage my mind before and not think about it–even when I was too tired to do anything more than watch Youtube videos in the evening. But this forced inactivity is an entirely different thing, and I can’t seem to get control of my mind when it starts to wander. I’ve been thinking about my career and where it’s gone and where it may go in the future over this last week; my stubbornness at keeping going when maybe I should gave given up. I’m proud of all my work, and I’ve also come to accept that my old work maybe isn’t terrible the way I’ve always feared. I always approach rereads of my own work with my mind subtly shifting into editorial mode, and once I recognized that recently, I do go ahead and shut that off before I do read. I’m a different writer than I was twenty-two or more years ago, and I have always wanted to continue to improve, grow, and get better with each new story, book, or essay (I don’t care how bad these entries are, actually; it’s rare that I go back and revisit these); so of course I would write the older books etc. differently were I to write them today; that doesn’t mean the old ones aren’t good.

And honestly, how many award nominations do I need to get before I finally accept that I’m pretty good at this whole thing? That I have the respect of my peers?

I’m proud of all my work, but I also have preferences as far as that is concerned; some children I love more than the others. The ones I am not as fond of are the ones that I think I could have made better than they were; the ones I wish I had another pass at. That’s what I am thinking with finally re-editing and preparing Jackson Square Jazz for rerelease; here’s a chance to give it a bit more polish, make it come together better, and remove inconsistencies and continuity errors from the series as a whole. Reediting the manuscript is something I can do in my easy chair, and then I can slowly input the changes into the word document gradually until the entire thing is finished. Slow and steady wins the race, after all. I’m very happy, seriously, with my career as far as the work itself is concerned. I would like my writing to be a lot more profitable than it’s been thus far (what writer doesn’t dream of fame and fortune) but I couldn’t care less about the fame–I’ve always cared more about the fortune, actually; I’m pragmatic that way.

I’m hoping to write more today–after I finish this I have some emails to attend to–and I also have bills that simply must be paid so I can stop getting stressed about that, too. I don’t know how long I am good for in this chair sitting upright with the brace balanced against the edge, to be honest…but I need to give it a try. I am just not wired to be inactive, I guess,

Have a great Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will see you again later.

What About Me

Well, here we are on Monday morning after my surgery, and I’m not really sure what I’ll be doing today. I really need to pick up a prescription in Uptown, and we need to pick up the mail at some point, but I’m not really sure how I’m going to do that. I don’t know that I should risk driving yet, because New Orleans drivers are so horrible, but it has to be done and I need the prescription. I suppose I could take a ride service, but I hate spending the money as well. I guess I don’t have a choice though, so I’ll deal with that later. I also need to make groceries.

We had had an issue a few weeks ago with the apartment. They were doing some work on the patio deck above my kitchen, and unfortunately there was rotten wood up there. The ceiling kind of gave way; they ended up nailing up a piece of plywood over the hole in the ceiling. Unfortunately the next time it rained, of course, it leaked , but they finished the work up there and never came back to repair our ceiling. We had a massive thunderstorm Saturday night, and so i woke up Sunday morning to water on the floor in the kitchen, on the stove, and on the counter. The carpets in the kitchen were also  wet; so I got out towels and a bucket for the dripping and hoped that the ceiling wouldn’t cave in. About two hours later, yeah, some of the plaster came down with a loud, startling crash, and so now there’s another hole in the ceiling. The insulation up there is soaked, so I had to leave the bucket for the dripping to continue. Needless to say, this is a really shitty time for this to happen and it spiraled me into a really bad depressive state yesterday. I have noted already that my emotions have been all over the place since the surgery — so something like this really sent me into a spiral. The anxiety really ramps up, so yeah, yesterday was just not a good day for me.

So, I repaired my easy chair with a Gatorade and Nurse Sparky and put on one of my comfort movies, Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade. I’ve always loved Indiana Jones, but I haven’t seen the most recent movie yet. I’ve always wanted to write an Indiana  Jones type book; I love historical treasure  hunts and have always thought that it would be fun to write those kind of stories with Colin as the main character — away from Frank and Scotty, to kind of fill in the blanks when he’s away from New Orleans. I have an idea that’s tied into the 4th crusade and the sack of Constantinople; a treasure hidden away in the Hagia Sophia since the Nicaean Council that established the dogma of Catholic Christianity. The Orthodox patriarchy had been keeping this treasure secret from the Pope and the Vatican for centuries, at least since the schism of 1052. My idea is that the Venetians and the Crusaders knew that the Pope would be furious to learn they had sacked Constantinople, but the Doge, Enrico Dandalo, not only knew about the secret but also knew presenting it to the Pope would get them forgiven. The primary problem with this is that I have never figured out what precisely was hidden in the Hagia Sophia; but I wanted to tie it into the Assassins and the Old Man of the Mountain. I thought that would make for a fun adventure, particularly setting it in a fictional Middle Eastern country. However, with everything that’s going on in the world nowadays, writing about the Middle East is probably not a good idea at this point.

I also read a lot of short stories over the weekend. I read all the stories in one of my Alfred Hitchcock Presents anthologies, Stories That Scared Even Me, and that was a lot of fun. The book was published originally in the 1960s or early 1970s and it is amazing how much attitudes in society and cultural attitudes have changed since that time. The contributors were almost entirely male — all of these anthologies are underrepresented with women — and there are a lot of really racist and patriarchal  tropes in some of the stories. Several, for example, are set in Mexico; I’ll let your imagination do the rest rather than quote what they said so casually. I’m also writing a story set in Central America — I was writing it to submit to a horror anthology — and it was one that I had started writing back in the 1990s, I believe. I was kind of horrified by what I wrote — I feel like by the 1980s I should have known better about these kinds of tropes  — but the story is salvageable; with some strong changes and a fictional country. But you can still get into trouble, even with that, and the last thing I ever want to do is write something problematic that will offend people. (I have already mentioned the story that I submitted to a anthology that’s not going to happen now about the South, which I recently  reread and was horrified by.)  A lot of these stories have those twisty type of endings that I always loved; that little hint of irony that really made the story sing. I always try to give my stories those kinds of endings because that’s what I grew up reading as far as short stories are concerned, and I often have to struggle to not try that with every story, because it’s not right for every story and I have a bad tendency to try to force things to work the way I want them to, instead of the way that they should work organically.

Dictating is much slower than typing, as I’ve noted before; this is taking me a lot longer to dictate then I would like. Where I actually typing this entry, I would probably already be finished by now. But you do what you have to do. I also started dictating my next book, figuring it’s better to get started on it while I’m at home recovering from the surgery, rather than waiting until such time as my left hand can be used for the keyboard. I’m still not having any pain  — my primary issue is mobility, not being able to use my left hand for  much, occasional nausea from the antibiotic, and the mood swings and depression. I wish I had already started on my anti-anxiety medication protocol before the surgery, but what can you do? Yesterday morning, I was thinking that I made a lot of bad decisions about this surgery and that I didn’t do it knowing everything that would result from it; but I was worried about not ever being able to go to the gym and workout again unless  and until this was done, and pushing it back to next year wouldn’t have changed any of these issues, I don’t think, other than possibly better planning on my part. But that’s also part of the anxiety—I always question my decisions, and never really believe that I made the right choices afterward. I guess it is just a part of that hindsight being 20/20 thing that always drives me crazy. I never really am confident in the decisions I make, so I always try to not second-guess or doubt myself afterward; there’s no point in rehashing things that you can’t change. Why obsess over something I have no control over anymore? That’s the easiest way to drive yourself crazy, I think.

We’re also really enjoying the show Bodies on Netflix. It has everything that I like; a bit of science fiction, crime, surprise twists, and gay content. You can never go wrong with me when you have gay content. (That’s not entirely true; there are some really terrible shows in movies with gay content that are basically unwatchable) I also finished watching a Jane Seymour series on Acorn called Harry Wild, which wasn’t great but was entertaining enough. I don’t know what all I’ve been watching to be honest with you, Constant Reader, but I’ve been watching  an awful lot of television.

I did watch a terrible adaptation of Agatha Christie’s The Mirror Crack’d, and the less said about that the better.

I’m hoping today or tomorrow to be able to read a novel; I’m really enjoying the one that I was reading before the surgery and would like to finish it, but my mind is all over the place and has been since coming home from the surgery. I haven’t even been able to focus on the TV I’ve been watching as much as I would like. Part of it is the depression, part of it is the holiday without Mom, and of course, the surgery. You see how I am? I’m being hard on myself after a major surgery for not getting anything done or being productive. Heavy sigh. Welcome to the wonderful world of what goes on inside my head.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close and see if I can figure out what I’m going to do for the rest of the day, and what I can do about these errands. I hope you have a lovely Monday and as always, thank you for checking in and thank you for reading.

You and I

Sunday morning after a relaxing Saturday in the Lost Apartment. I went by to get the mail and stopped at the Fresh Market, then went back later to CVS to get my booster vaccine for COVID-19 and pick up my post-operative medications (my BASTARD insurance refused to cover the oxycodone, of all things. I hope this surgery costs them a fucking fortune). The games on television weren’t very interesting, frankly, and the only one that had any potential at all turned into a blow-out (Georgia-Tennessee). It was kind of a laid-back bland boring kind of day, which was kind of necessary. The prescription issue–I stopped by CVS on my first trip uptown, but one of my prescriptions wasn’t ready (the one I had already called to approve over the phone) but it turned out the reason they kept not filling it was because the insurance wasn’t paying for it and I had to say, “yes, I will pay out of pocket for it, thank you” which was why I had to go back later in the afternoon–so I figured I may as well make a vaccination appointment for when I do go back. You know me, always trying to be as efficient as possible and to utilize my time more effectively; seriously, I know now it’s an anxiety thing. I never quite understand my anxiety and what triggers it or causes it, or how many coping systems I have engineered over the course of my life to work around it–which turns into compulsive behavior.

I’ve yet to figure out how the obsessive part of me comes from the anxiety, but I am sure I will at some point.

My arm–the one I am having the surgery on–is sore this morning because I figured I might as well get used to that arm hurting and had the booster shot in that arm. I slept deeply and well last night; I went to bed shortly after the LSU game concluded with a 56-14 score with Jayden Daniels tying the school record for most touchdowns in a game (the other was Joe Burrow’s eight against Oklahoma in the 2019 play-offs…but Burrow scored seven in the first half and the eighth on the first drive of the second half before sitting out the rest of the game (LSU could have scored a hundred that day had they been so inclined; that game still boggles my mind that it actually happened–as well as how). If there’s any justice in the world Daniels will win the Heisman Trophy (he is clearly the best player in the country), but welcome to 2023 and college football. An impressive showing against Texas A&M won’t hurt his chances, for sure–but the fact LSU has a terrible defense this year shouldn’t overshadow what he’s accomplished with our offense. As an LSU fan, it boggles my mind that we have one of the best offenses of all-time, and yet our defense–always a point of pride in Tigerland–is one of the worst when our defense has historically always been vastly superior to our offense. We used to lose because the offense couldn’t score; now we lose because our defense is terrible. Even last night at first it looked like “same-old same-old,” with Georgia State scoring on their first two possessions before the defense clicked into gear and they never scored again.

Tulane also won again yesterday. Well done, Green Wave!

I spent some time reading Lou Berney’s Dark Ride yesterday and I am loving this book so much. Hardly, the stoner burnout loser main character, is probably one of my favorite characters I’ve read in quite some time; he resonates with me, especially with his newly awakened sense of right and wrong–which does not, I might add, change anything for his normal circumstances–he’s still a stoner burnout, still gets high as he puzzles his way into figuring out what to do next, and whether he should keep carrying about these random two kids he saw one day that might be victims of physical abuse. He reminds me in some way of a modern day American Don Quixote; I don’t know if that was what Berney was going for, but I can tell you this–he has nailed the voice of this character, and the story itself is quite good–and of course the writing, as always with Berney’s work, is spectacular…and it’s quite inspiring.

It also feels weird knowing I don’t have to go into the office tomorrow. Tomorrow is the last day I have to get everything ready in the apartment before the surgery–laying in supplies and getting everything ready to go for Tuesday. I suspect that I am going to be in some kind of drugged stupor for the first two days at least, and maybe by next weekend I’ll be lucid enough to be able to write a blog post; I don’t know. I suspect yesterday’s low energy was in some ways triggered by the knowledge of the surgery coming along with slight irritation over the prescription issue. But I made my meatballs last night (Paul astutely pointing out that I really make meatball stew rather than meatballs in gravy, and that is a very thin line) and they were very good. I also did some straightening up around here–I was expecting Paul to go work with his trainer and then go to the office for the afternoon, but his trainer canceled on him and he stayed home–moving down to lay on the couch and (hopefully) make a bed for Tug/Sparky; unlike Scooter, Tug’s a little more restless and he’s kind of gotten used to using my lap in the easy chair as his bed–and sure enough, he spent most of the day sleeping in my lap as I lazily scrolled through social media, looked things up on Google, and basically did nothing productive while watching yesterday’s (mostly boring) games. I probably should have watched Kansas-Kansas State, which the Wildcats won in a shoot out 31-24 (when was the last time both teams in the rivalry game had winning records? The futility of the college football teams in the state of Kansas is astonishing, even with KSU turning things around in the last thirty years–they’ve beaten KU fifteen straight times now). I’ll go look at what happened around the country in the sport once I finish writing this and move on to the easy chair to finish Lou’s book so I can write about it later. And I need to do some more blatant self-promotional posts before I wind up not being able to post anything at all for who knows how long?

Heavy sigh.

And on that note, I am taking my coffee and Dark Ride to my easy chair, only to emerge from it to get more coffee until I am finished reading it, and have started my next read, Zig Zag, by J. D. O’Brien. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll probably be back later on today at some point as well….and I just remembered there is no Saints game today, so I have no excuses.

The Look of Love

It truly is incredible what a shithole of a site The Site Formerly Known as Twitter has become under the tenure of that brilliant modern thinker Elon Musk (Narrator voice: those adjectives were meant as sarcasm). Every time I go there to cross-post the blog or something, it only takes a moment or two before I am getting the fuck out of that hellish place. I know I should probably just deactivate and be done with it as it fades away into memory like MySpace did once upon a time, but something keeps me there–despite knowing its immoral to even scroll a little bit, and definitely against my own personal ethics–but I think it’s more along the lines of watching a slow-motion disaster movie, frame by frame.

If only it would bankrupt him financially, to go along with his moral and ethical bankruptcies.

Yesterday wasn’t a very good day around the ranch. I was low energy all day, and while i did get all of my work-at-home duties taken care of and handled, after running errands and having a ZOOM call with three very dear friends (who undoubtedly are sick of me talking too much on ZOOM calls), I was just flat out exhausted and simply collapsed into my easy chair with my purr kitty for the evening. I did watch a lengthy documentary about the Eastern Roman Empire, and how the Holy Roman Empire was western Europe’s attempt to recapture and regrasp the legacy of Imperial Rome, to the point of rebranding the real Roman Empire as the Byzantine, or Greek, Empire. (The history of “western” civilization is full of these sorts of reclaimings and rebrandings, as the West sought to basically claim the history of civilization in general.) It just goes to show you–the history we all learned in public school was biased and written to enhance and create a foundation for white supremacy to rest upon. There’s a rather lengthy personal essay to be written about having to relearn everything I learned as a child as an adult because it was all wrong–or people could just read Howard Zinn’s work.

Today I do have some errands to run and vaccines to get injected into my arms; I also have things around the house I need to get done. I am going to make Swedish meatballs today in the slow cooker, I think; that’ll be a nice treat to go along with the LSU game tonight against Georgia State. There really aren’t many great games today–everyone has an “easy” game scheduled for the weekend before the Thanksgiving rivalry games, many of which this is the last go-around for. It’s weird to think LSU won’t be playing their most hated rival, Florida, every year any more (but how delightful to go out with a five game winning streak over them, ha ha ha ha and fuck off, Gators), or that other classic games won’t occur anymore. I don’t know why or when LSU’s Thanksgiving rivalry weekend opponent changed from Arkansas to Texas A&M; that was a fun rivalry with the Razorbacks pulling off some upsets over the years–why is it that everyone plays lights-out when they play LSU?–but that was also a manufactured rivalry that didn’t exist before Arkansas joined the SEC.

I also want to spend some time reading this morning; Lou Berney’s Dark Ride is calling my name and I am really enjoying it. The fun thing about Lou’s work is everything is always different; no two books are ever the same, or even the same kind of voice or style. Every book is an original in every way, and I will go to my grave with The Long and Faraway Gone as one of my favorite crime novels of all time. The one thing I am looking forward to after this surgery is more time to read, and if need be, I can read on my iPad–it’s not like I haven’t downloaded hundreds of books over the years. I’m still enjoying The Rival Queens–man, I love that period of French history–and I think my next read after Lou’s will be Zig Zag, by J. D. O’Brien; since it’s about a weed dispensary heist, coming after Lou’s stoner noir seems like the proper pairing, and then after that I am moving on to the new Angie Kim.

I was exhausted last night so I slept incredibly well. I even slept in this morning, not getting out of bed before eight-thirty like a slag. I feel much more rested and emotionally even this morning, which is a very good thing. I want to get a lot done today–I really need to move furniture and figure out how to make my work station more Big Kitten Energy proof, which is possible but will take some figuring out, and I won’t be able to move anything after Tuesday’s surgery, after all, so I have to get all this stuff done before hand. I don’t feel like I’ve had the chance to think everything through the way it needs to be thought through, nor do I feel like I am prepared for the aftermath and recovery period–which I think was the explanation for yesterday’s low energy; created and maintained completely by my anxiety.

I also want to read this original text version of The Mark on the Door, a Hardy Boys mystery.

We watched Blue Beetle last night, and I really enjoyed it. First, it was lovely seeing a Latinx family centered in a super-hero movie, and to have a super-hero of Mexican ancestry. It had some really funny moments (as well as some that made me go huh?), and as far as DC/Marvel movies go, it was one of the more solid plots and origin stories, but I’m also not terribly familiar with the Blue Beetle character. I primarily remember/knew him from the Justice League comic books of the late 1980’s/early 1990’s, and he was often teamed up with Booster Gold for comedy. I don’t know what has happened to the character with all the reboots since then, but I appreciated seeing something different from a comic book movie. The lead actor, young Xolo Maridueña, was handsome and appealing and charismatic, and the rest of the cast is fine other than the old witch who gave us Presidents Nader and Sanders because she doesn’t vote with her vagina (maybe you should have, you fucking piece of trash, since your mouth and going everywhere all over 24 hour news to trash Hillary helped give us the current Supreme Court, and you should be shunned and forced to take a Game of Thrones walk of shame down Pennsylvania you fucking hateful bitch–I will carry that grudge to the grave, skank). Seeing that fucking trash was in the cast made me seriously reconsider watching, frankly, and her “acting” was a joke and so horrific that Paul and I spent a good hour recasting with actresses who wouldn’t have just cashed the check and phoned it in the way she did.) The movie is actually strongest when it focuses on the Reyes family and their dynamic (Nana is the absolute best), and while it didn’t pull down the kind of financial numbers a movie like this is intended to (and odds that it’ll be blamed by Hollywood on centering a Latinx family are pretty strong), I do think this is one of the movies that in the future will be reclaimed as a classic and one of the best in the field. I hope there will be a sequel, as was teased at the end.

But I think they’re rebooting the movie universe for DC, so who knows.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous, marvelous Saturday, Constant Reader, and may whatever teams you’re rooting for today have a nice win–unless you’re a Georgia State fan, of course.

Heartbreaker

Work at home Friday and a good night’s sleep. I did have to get up just before six to feed Tug, but went back to bed for a very cozy hour or so of additional napping on top of the sleep. It felt marvelous, and I feel actually very rested and good this morning, which is always a lovely surprise. I have work-at-home duties to get taken care of and errands to run later when I am finished with them, and then I am going to just rest and relax and read and try to write and edit and clean and organize all weekend. Monday is pre-surgery prep day, and then of course I go under the scalpel on Tuesday (don’t know what time yet). As of today I have to stop taking some of my medications and vitamins to get them out of my system by Tuesday–so really, prep work is beginning today, really. I am also still adjusting to my new teeth. I kind of laughed as I got ready for bed last night–as I took out my teeth, my hearing aids, and removed my glasses; when I am bed I can’t see, hear or talk; I definitely have mush-mouth when I take the teeth out.

I came directly home after work last night; I had to stay later than I usually do because I had to take a longer lunch on Wednesday to drive out to Jefferson Highway to get the teeth. It was already dark when I got home, and Tug of course had wreaked destruction on the workspace during the day–which is yet another reminder of how I have to a) not let the filing pile up anymore and b) might need to reorganize the workspace to limit Big Kitten Energy destruction and/or mess. That could be a very good project for this weekend. LSU is playing Georgia State Saturday night (big deal, right?) and I am not even sure the game is going to even be televised, frankly, or if it is, it’s probably one of those minor SEC network “plus” channels I always have to figure out how to get every single time (it’s an on-going thing with the LSU gymnastics meets), and even glancing over the schedule this weekend there’s really not much of anything, other than Georgia-Tennessee and Kansas-Kansas State; all the big rivalry games are next weekend, so this is kind of a lull weekend before the Thanksgiving weekend extravaganza, which hopefully I won’t be too zonked out on medications to enjoy. I was thinking I might try to make pulled turkey in the slow cooker for Thanksgiving, but I wouldn’t be able to pull it apart. I’m not really sure what our food situation is going to be, in all honesty, until after I am off the painkillers. I’ll have to put some thought into that and make groceries at some point before Tuesday. I know we have things in the freezer that can be thawed out and/or cooked; but it also wouldn’t hurt to have other options available, either.

I got caught up on my reality television shows last night–Real Housewives continue to have this weird hold on my interest and imagination which I can’t really explain; particularly because these women generally are examples of everything I think is wrong with American culture and society–and then got sucked into some more Youtube documentaries about the fall of Rome, the war between Rome and the Gauls, and more about the schism between the Catholic and Orthodox churches–the original split of Christianity and dogma. My fascination with the Eastern Roman Empire continues unabated, as well as my interest in the Hapsburgs and the sixteenth century (I am loving The Rival Queens, my current non-fiction read, and need to read more Nancy Goldstone histories). I also want to finish reading Lou Berney’s Dark Ride this weekend, and get started on my next read before the surgery. I also need to remember to keep hitting save as Tug keeps waltzing over my keyboard and wreaking havoc on my screen. I do feel hopeful that the time out from the office will give me time to do more reading and writing and start working my way out from under everything; one can always hope. It can get overwhelming sometimes just thinking about everything I need to do and get done.

I was also thinking the other day about how I always say I “compartmentalize” my life and my personal history..and wondering if the word I should be using when I say that is “repress”; because isn’t that what you’re doing when you are deliberately trying not to think about your past and things you’ve experienced? Especially when those events can be traumatic? Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest way to deal with things, but I also think setting personal boundaries for behavior you will and will not accept from friends and acquaintances is healthy. I am pretty easy-going, or at least deceive myself into believing that, because I have this insane and unhealthy need to be liked. As a general rule I tend to not get angry when people cross my boundaries. It takes a while for it to start to get to me, but when I am angry it’s because I care and the behavior has offended my sensibilities in some way. When you get to the point where the reaction you get is for me to go completely cold and stop caring? You’ll never come back from that with me. Once I stop caring, I stop caring–and if that hurts you, it isn’t my problem–because by that point you’ve crossed my boundaries so many times despite multiple warnings (narcissists never listen to warnings because no one would ever give up the AMAZING gift of their friendship–ha ha ha ha ha, Keep dreaming.), yet you continue to throw additional chances given back in my face.

Bye, Felicia.

And on that note, I am going to start getting some things done around here before I start my work for the day. Have a great Friday–and be warned there will probably be Blatant Self-Promotion to come.

I’m So Excited

I got my teeth yesterday!

It’s very odd to have teeth again now. I also realized that the lower denture plate feels even stranger not just because I had my bottom teeth all removed after Labor Day (yes, it has been that long), but because even before that, it had been years since I had a full set of bottom teeth. I don’t even remember how long it’s been since I lost my first lower tooth, but I know it was a front one, followed by abscessed molars, which was a horrible experience…that I’ll never have to go through again. I am finished with tooth pain, now and forever. Huzzah in-fucking-deed, y’all.

So, now all that is left to be finished with is the biceps repair and recovery. Huzzah!

It was a cold, gray, drizzly day in New Orleans yesterday; it actually has been all week. This has, of course, helped me to sleep better (as well as not wanting to get up in the morning, because the bed is warm and comfortable–Tug has finally adjusted to the time change too; he now vaults over Paul and lands on me just before the six o’clock alarm rings). It’s a bit chilly, but I’m not complaining, not after that horrendous summer we just suffered through. No, I’ll just grit my teeth and happily put on another layer, thank you very much. I actually kind of like it, because it makes being inside feel more snug and cozy. I do like that feeling, I suppose, despite my aversion to the cold weather.

I stopped and made groceries in Mid-city yesterday, primarily so I could also stop at Five Guys for dinner. I’ve generally not eaten in the evenings after work since the dental procedure–and really hadn’t even before. But oh my God, I was starving all the way home smelling that food in the bag, and yes, it was marvelous, absolutely marvelous. There’s some adjustments to be made and I need to get used to them–they feel a little alien now, as does chewing. I also realized that I’ve not chewed properly in decades, because I’ve been missing teeth for quite some time (which always made me feel like a hillbilly from the holler) so I am glad I no longer have that anxiety and stress about people judging me as “poor white trash” because of my teeth. As I was sitting in my easy chair eating my bacon cheeseburger, I realized I had the sound turned down on the television (hearing aids); could see it clearly (new glasses); and could eat and chew easily (new teeth).

Finally.

Today is my last day in the office until I return from my surgery. Monday is my pre-surgery get everything ready for a major disruption day; Tuesday is the surgery; and then comes the recovery. I was thinking I could go ahead and get a turkey breast so I could make pulled turkey for the holidays…and then realized that you can’t really pull turkey apart one-handed. Sigh. I guess it’ll be okay; we don’t really care that much about traditional meals and so forth for holidays. Usually I am not here for Thanksgiving, as I have tended to always drive north for Welcome Colonizers Day, so there’s that, too. Paul had wanted to go visit his mom between the holidays–I still think he should; losing my mom made me realize how critically important it is for him to spend as much time with his as he can before he finds himself motherless as well. He’s also an only child, which makes it even worse. My sister and her kids made my absence from important family days–birthdays, holidays, anniversaries–easier on my parents; he doesn’t have a sibling making up for his absence on those kinds of days for his mother.

Heavy heaving sigh.

I slept super well last night so I feel very rested this morning, which is always a good thing. It’s nice to feel rested by the end of the work week, even if a bit groggy; it’ll feel great to sleep later tomorrow. We have to take Tug back to the vet for a shot tomorrow morning, but that’ll be fine. It’s weird to think I won’t be in the office again for three weeks after today. It’s weird to think I’ll be drugged out and out of it for almost a week. I think there was also some underlying anxiety about getting the teeth before the surgery, too; which has now been alleviated. I’m not sure what today’s weather is going to be like–I’ll check once I finish writing this and have a second cup of coffee for the morning–but I doubt that it’s going to be warm and sunny today. Well, I could wait so I looked and yes, the high today is 69 (which made me giggle a bit because I am always a twelve year old boy at heart) and there’s more chance of rain today. We need the rain–I don’t know if the swamp fire is still burning in the east, but it sure smelled like burning rubber yesterday around the office–because it’s been horrifically dry and drought-ish this year.

I also need to finish off the blatant self-promotion by doing some more of it. It’s not easy, you know, coming up with ideas to promote myself and my books; I find myself fascinating, but I am sure that others aren’t quite as enthusiastic about me as I am about me. I do feel weird having two books as new releases at basically the same time; while I have always been relatively prolific throughout most of my writing career, I’ve never managed to have two novels released so closely to each other. It worries me a bit, as obviously I want people to buy, read, and enjoy both–but getting people to buy read and enjoy one is hard enough without having to compete with myself for the attention and wallet of readers.

So today is the first day in a very long time where I won’t have ice cream as part of my diet–I’m still going to be eating soft food for a while, since I am not just going to throw what’s left away, but I am not going to be buying ice cream for quite some time now–if ever again. I do love it, but having a pint every day for over two months sounds much better than it actually is, in all honesty. I’ve also gotten so out of the habit of grocery shopping for real that I couldn’t quite figure out last night what all was needed when I went to the Carrollton Rouse’s. Tomorrow I can take a better inventory, can clean out some cabinets, and so forth. Tug has also made a mess of my piles of stuff that need to be filed–he keeps zooming around like a pinball and as his paws scrabble over the piles as he careems around, the piles fall to the floor–which means no more piles and I need to be better about filing things right away rather than leaving them out for “when I have more time later.” That’s, as my grandmother used to say, “the devil on my shoulder whispering in my ear.”

I also need to pay the bills since Pay Day is the day after the surgery and I seriously doubt that I’ll be in any condition to do that the morning after, so I need to get it taken care of while I am lucid before hand. Sigh.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. May you have a fabulous Thursday, Constant Reader–and I’ll probably be back to annoy you later on.