Category: health

A Song in the Night

Sunday morning after a satisfactorily relaxing Saturday, in which I watched a lot of college football while doing chores and picking things up and so forth. For those of you keeping track of the soft food diet, last night I tried mashed potatoes as a meal and it was rather filling, yet not satisfying. I was fantasizing yesterday about corn dogs and fish tacos and cheeseburgers and almost every kind of solid food imaginable at some point during the day, only to sigh and get another yogurt or protein shake in a box.

LSU played very well yesterday, winning 41-14 over Mississippi State in Starkville, which meant listening to those fucking cowbells all through the game, but I don’t know what that win means, if anything. Yes, it means LSU is now tied for first place in the West, but what does it mean for how good they are? LSU has been very dominant in its last two games, but Grambling State was very much outmatched and no one really knows how good or bad Mississippi State is, either. They always manage to play better than expected when they play LSU, and there have been some insanely close games as well as the occasional MSU upset win–and by quite a lot. I’m cautiously optimistic about the rest of the season for LSU, but my expectations aren’t high; I’ll be glad for whatever we get that is good this season. It’s nice to beat the Bulldogs in Starkville decisively. Was Florida State just a really good team and LSU played sloppy so had no chance? It’s also possible. Georgia didn’t look invincible yesterday against South Carolina, and neither did Alabama at South Florida. The Florida blowout of Tennessee annihilated any hopes they may have had of winning the East this year–I can’t see how they’ll beat Georgia, and Alabama, which is the only way it’s possible for them now. Another Tennessee loss will be fatal to their hopes for a big season–and they also have to play at Alabama….who also is looking a little shaky this year. I think the SEC is wide open this year, and Georgia is still the favorite, but maybe not as resoundingly as I had thought. Interesting.

So, as I said, the rest of the day was anti-climactic. I continued on my soft food diet, while fantasizing about solid food, and my mouth waters at the thought of what I’ll be able to eat once my mouth has healed. This may also be the last time I’m ever on a liquid/soft food diet, and certainly not for the length of time this is taking for me. That helps me get through the day, believe me–and those are the straws I am grasping at this point. It’s not really been that bad, but I think a diet that is so heavy in protein and fat can’t be that good for me so I am going to force myself to eat more of the baby food, which is dreadful. There’s a weird chemical aftertaste to it that I can’t quite figure out, but it’s nasty. At least the servings are small. I did eat mashed potatoes for dinner last night, which was just weird. Today I think I am going to make chicken noodle soup for lunch; I think I can handle the noodles somewhat, and that will be a good benchmark to see what I can and can’t have in terms of more solid food. I mean, maybe mac-and-cheese could happen at some point, you never know. I do have some things to do that I’ve been (as usual) putting off until the last minute, so there’s no other option than to do them today. It’s fine; there’s no Saints game to distract me or sideline me (they play tomorrow night) and I am conflicted about them; they are my team, but this week I found out our new quarterback is a COVID-denier and anti-vaxxer–at least as far as the COVID vaccine is concerned. I had started following him on Twitter (I refuse to call it X, fuck off, Musk), and then I saw him retweeting something questioning the WHO and the vaccines, etc. and thought, yes, because you got your degree in epidemiology and infectious diseases at Fresno State? I unfollowed and blocked him. This is tough for me, really. I never really felt the same about Drew Brees after he partnered with the homophobic American Family Association to promote “bring your Bible to school day”–which sounds sweet and innocuous….unless you aren’t a Christian. The fact that he and his team failed to do any vetting on AFA before agreeing to work with them was incredibly troubling; his reaction (“I’m not a bully! I support everyone! How dare you criticize me!”) made it worse. There was no humility there, just anger at being doubted or questioned, which belied the “humble act” he’d been playing since signing with the Saints. To me, that failing lessened him in my eyes because I’d admired and liked him as a good person for so long. No doubt, he did a lot for New Orleans and he still has charities and programs here his foundation runs–but the Brees family moved back to Texas shortly after he retired as well.

So much for his lifelong commitment to New Orleans. That also stung a bit. So, yes, while the bloom was off that rose even before he retired, I suppose I could have eventually gotten around to getting past it and excusing the AFA connection–if not for them leaving New Orleans. This city literally gave them everything they have…and once the city had finished giving them everything, they left when there was nothing left to squeeze out of the orange.

I’m petty that way. I love New Orleans, and don’t even think about disrespecting the city unless you live here. Only residents of the city have the right to complain–the rest of you don’t have to come here, and please, feel free to keep your sorry asses at home if you aren’t going to love and appreciate New Orleans for all that she is.

I was also realizing, as I watched the games yesterday (won’t lie, I always pull for upsets except for LSU early in the season; my allegiances and loyalties shift as it progresses as LSU works through its schedule and who LSU needs to win and lose changes every weekend), that I should be taking advantage of this contract-free state in which I find myself to work on other things and maybe get them ready for either submission or publication? I’d like to get my short story collection finished by the end of the year–I think some of my stories that are published might not be available for it, like “The Ditch” and “The Snow Globe,” and if I finish revising “Whim of the Wind” and the anthology I am working on it for takes it, that will also take it out of consideration for the collection. I know “Death and the Handmaidens” will never be picked up for publication outside of one of my own collections, and that’s fine with me. It’s a bit flawed and needs cleaning up, of course, but it’s a good story with a strong foundation that just needs tweaking. I finally have let go of my ridiculous notion that “Whim of the Wind” was perfect as written and only had one small flaw that needed fixing; I am still proud of it as the first story I wrote that a college professor and a writing class thought was good and publishable of mine, so it will always be that landmark story in my writing career, but revising and rewriting and changing it isn’t some incredibly unpardonable sin for me, you know. I also want to revise and finish “The Blues Before Dawn,” “Parlor Tricks,” and “Temple of the Soothsayer.” That should be my goal for this week–as well as starting the revision/re-edit of Jackson Square Jazz–and emptying my email inbox.

And there are other things, too. So much, as always, that one Gregalicious always seems to have on his plate. I also started writing up interview posts, based on panel questions from Bouchercon in San Diego, which is always fun.

And on that note, I am getting another cup of coffee before heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I may check in with you again later, if not tomorrow.

The Rains Came

The weather has cooled down (Those Not From Here would scoff at the idea that temperatures ranging from 82-90 during the day signals a “cooling down,” but they can be forgiven because they clearly didn’t live through what was the hottest summer in New Orleans history. We broke records for everything. It was so hot and it hadn’t rained for so long we were in a wildfire alert, being cautioned not to cook outside–although why anyone would want to if they had another choice is beyond me. But yesterday morning when I left the house I thought, ah, this is lovely as I walked out to the car. As I indicated, the appointment went well, and now I know the backside of Tulane’s campus as well as where the football stadium is. I probably should explore that part of town more. I had an idea for (yet) another mystery series that would be set in the University area, or at least anchored there, but I am not as familiar with that part of town as I should be. I am very neighborhood limited here in New Orleans, but my own neighborhood and the one right next to it are so interesting and fun to explore that it’s hard to get out of my own neighborhood. Now that the weather’s nicer I think I might start taking walks after work when I get home. It’s Halloween season, after all, and New Orleans does like to decorate.

I was tired yesterday when I finished my work-at-home duties, and curled up in my chair while watching a gay critique of Barbie and the camp aesthetic by James Somerton before falling into a mindless wormhole of football highlights, reaction videos, and the occasional news clip. I am very tired of these times in which I find myself living this last third of my life. I did not have the potential collapse of American democracy and society on my life BIngo card; I’m not sure anyone really did. I think part of the reason I was so tired yesterday was the release of the inner tension and stress I was experiencing leading up the appointment. I was doing a pretty good job of handling the anxiety, I thought, refusing to let my conscious mind spiral (the curse of having a very fertile mind and a tendency toward pessimism is just how convincing the absolute worst I can imagine happening can truly be), but I also forget that the subconscious is also affected, and I’m not sure I can learn how to control that part of my mind, or if that’s even possible. Anyway, the reassurance that I am in very good hands and he has done the procedure many times successfully released all that stress and tension, and I think it left me drained and exhausted.

I was able to read more of Shawn’s book at the appointment while I was waiting to be seen (a book is such a better diversion than doom-scrolling social media on your phone) and my initial fear about the direction the book was taking–a mass school shooting–were unfounded. Shawn’s writing style is so rich and vibrant, too. I can almost hearing him reading the text aloud in my head as I read along, and I am very interested to see where the book is going to go. Shawn is one of those authors whose books I like to go into knowing nothing; all I know is who the author is and the title of the book. I don’t read reviews, I don’t read the jacket copy, I don’t read anything. (There are a handful of these writers; I also only have to know they are the author to buy it as well.) I hope to spend some more time with it this weekend. The LSU game is on at the ridiculous hour of eleven in the morning, which is the absolute worst time for an LSU game for me. I hate when they play early; if they play poorly it casts a pall over the rest of the day, and even if they do win, the rest of the day always feels anti-climactic. Anyway. So, maybe I will get to spend the rest of the day reading; stranger things have happened.

Tomorrow I have to spend doing some work; I’m not even going to try to pretend that I am going to get anything written or revised or edited today after the LSU game. I did manage to launder all the bed linen yesterday, and I also unloaded the dishwasher and cleaned the kitchen last night, too. So that’s something, right? If the game is at a decent hour next Saturday I’ll take these surplus beads to the donation bin, drop off all these boxes of books at the library sale, and maybe I’ll be able to eat something a bit more solid by then? I’m worried about losing weight because I’m afraid I’ll lose weight after the surgery too. Never thought I’d be worried about losing weight, but I also never thought I’d make it to my sixties, either. I have to eat something besides protein shakes and ice cream, so tomorrow I am going to try baby food again, and maybe mashed potatoes. It’s so exciting to be me these days, isn’t it?

But the kitchen and workspace area looks better organized this morning, which is pleasing to me, and I have another load of dishes ready to go in the dishwasher. I also figured out how to end two in-progress short stories that have stalled, so I call that a win, too. And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines.

Don’t Be Angry

So, this morning’s appointment went very well.

I’m not going to lie, I was very concerned and stressed about the appointment. To make a long story short, I tore my left biceps muscle changing a flat tire back in January. (I thought I’d jacked the car high enough to remove it; it wasn’t until I pulled on the tire that I realized it just as blinding pain flashed through my arm–from the fingers to the shoulder.) It hurt badly, but as a former athlete and personal trainer I am used to muscle strains and pulls. It felt like I’d pulled it, which has happened any number of times over the years (I couldn’t even. begin to tell you how many times my hamstrings have been pulled; both calves as well). It felt just like that–the pop and then the pain. The muscle looked weird, but my calves looked weird until the pull healed, and of course, I couldn’t see how my hamstrings looked as they healed. I had my biannual physical/check-up scheduled with my primary care physician for Wednesday that week, and I thought, as I drove home after running my errand, well, if it still hurts tomorrow I’ll go to the emergency room; if not it can wait till I see him on Wednesday. It stopped hurting that night unless I actually flexed the muscle, and it felt like I just had a charley horse…so I figured it was a pull, but best to ask my doctor just in case. My doctor didn’t think it was a bad thing, and suggested I wait and see how it goes until I saw him again in July. By July, I knew it wasn’t a pull and it wasn’t healing and maybe I should have pushed my doctor more and advocated for myself better than I did (something I am always lecturing my clients about, almost on a daily basis: “advocate for yourself! You know how you feel better than they do!” But…

I don’t like conflict, I don’t want to be a pain in the ass, and I always have had that “need to please” thing going on, which I am working on shedding.

Needless to say, the muscle was actually torn not pulled; and a tear requires surgery. I was referred to an orthopedic surgeon and visited him a few weeks ago, which was when I learned Dr. Google was correct; a biceps tear needs to be repaired within six weeks of the injury, or the tendon will continue to retract. The muscle is attached to the forearm muscle (sorry for not having technical terms) with a tendon, and that tendon is what tore. If you have the surgery before the tendon retracts, it’s easy to reattach it. The problem is the longer you wait the less stretchability the tendon has; it’s kind of atrophied. So THAT specialist didn’t feel comfortable doing the surgery because he wasn’t that specialized, hence the need to go to this morning’s appointment at the Tulane Institute of Sports Medicine–this is a more common injury with athletes–and so this morning I got up and headed uptown.

I have to say, I can highly recommend the Tulane Institute for Sports Medicine. Everyone was so nice, and polite, and made sure I was comfortable the entire time, always checking in on me whenever I was waiting, and so forth. I had some X-rays done of both my shoulder and elbow, and then I met with the surgeon. What a wonderful experience it was! He was kind–which matters so much more than anyone ever thinks it does in those situations–carefully explained how the surgery worked, how it would be done, the prognosis (I won’t ever get 100% strength back in my biceps, but it should be 90% at the least; and that was a big relief). There will be two incisions made, one on my inner forearm about an inch below the elbow, and another right below where the biceps muscle is sitting right now. If the tendon won’t stretch, they will sew in a cadaver tendon to reattach the muscle. The scarring will be apparent, but will be much smaller than I feared, and I’m glad that I can put my mind in ease. We scheduled the surgery for the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, so I won’t be going to Kentucky for the holiday (kind of relief, in a way, I was dreading the first one without Mom) but it means I’ll have to go up there some other time over the holidays.

I’m still angry at my former primary care physician for not really giving the injury anything more than a cursory, dismissive glance in January–and there were several other issues with him as well, so I fired him and have found a new primary care physician, who I will be seeing for the first time next Friday. She is my PrEP provider at Crescent Care, so I’ve been seeing her for several years now, I work with her on behalf of my clients, and I am comfortable with her and I also know she’s thorough. I don’t know why I didn’t switch over to her completely years ago, but…live and learn and I suspect it had more to do with laziness than anything else.

So, that’s out of the way and I just have to wait for someone to call me to schedule an MRI before the surgery, but there’s plenty of time for that so I don’t need to be anxious about it.

And now back to work at home chores.

Married, But Not To Each Other

There’s really nothing like a country adultery song, is there?

The stitches in my gums are starting to dissolve, which means healing is happening. I don’t know if and when I can eat something a little more solid–like bananas and watermelon–but trust me when I say I cannot wait to eat something I can gum a bit. That really doesn’t sound appealing, does it? But much as I love protein shakes and ice cream (please note the lack of mentioning baby food), I really want something else. I really want Five Guys, to the point where I’d buy one and puree it if I wasn’t aware enough to know that it would be disgusting and still inedible for me.

In a little bit I’ll be heading to the Tulane Institute of Sports Medicine where I am finally meeting with the kind of specialist who can potentially work on my left arm injury. It’s a very long and tragic story, how I got here at any rate, and I’ll probably go into more at another time, but it’s not something I feel like talking about at the moment. The primary problem is I don’t remember if I’ve talked about it here already or not? The joys of getting older and having a much more slippery memory than I used to have, I suppose. I slept really well last night–certainly could have slept longer, so I think this weekend will entail a lot of sleeping in, quite frankly. I don’t feel tired and worn out the way that I remember feeling before on Friday mornings, so I guess that’s a good sign. I’ll run some errands on the way home and hopefully won’t have to go out much this weekend. I also need to get back to writing something other than emails and blogs, to be honest. I was thinking about this last night, and since I’ll take Shawn’s book with me this morning to read in the waiting room, hopefully that will crack the trouble I am having reading since coming home and I think the answer to cracking the writing issue is to start the actual editing of Jackson Square Jazz. Why not? It needs to be done and it’s just been sitting there waiting for me to do it for years now. I also think I’m going to pull that short story collection I’ve been wanting to get into print, and see how close it is to being finished and what unpublished stories there are on hand that need more work on them. I think those are both valid projects for me to make some progress on this weekend around cleaning and watching football games, I think.

We got caught up on both Ahsoka and Only Murders in the Building last night, which was nice. I was tired when I got home from work last night–very tired–and was actually able to come straight home from work for once. I finished a load of laundry–still sitting in the dryer, actually–and a load of dishes that need to be unloaded once I get the kitchen back into some kind of decent shape.

As I sat in my chair last night waiting for Paul to come home while watching a documentary on Youtube about the final collapse of the Hapsburg dynasty, I wondered if my ability to now recognize anxiety for what it actually is as it starts (I just always thought everyone’s brain worked that way before) and fend it off had anything to do with with my not writing? I think I may have burned myself out a little bit with all the writing work I’ve done this year; juggling two new novels at the same time wasn’t the smartest move I’ve made in my career–but I had no way of knowing what my life situation was going to be like last fall, winter and spring either. I also think if I can get over the reading hump, the writing hump will melt away like nothing before my very eyes. It’s a lovely thing to believe (we tell ourselves lies in order to live), and it may very well be true–reading always inspires me and makes me want to get back into my chair at the keyboard and working away at something. I also just checked and my new glasses are scheduled to arrive on Monday, which is great, as my prescription has grown stronger but I am still wearing my old ones. This is, if you will recall, the year of getting things done–hence the hearing aids, the mouth surgery, and following up on getting my arm taken care of. I am looking forward to being able to see properly again, and chew again, to go along with my new ability to hear, which is lovely and something to which I’m still adapting.

So my big plans for this weekend involve cleaning the house (as always), revising and reediting Jackson Square Jazz, and reading All the Sinners Bleed, which has a very strong and powerful opening. I may do other things–I do have a hefty to-do list to take care of this weekend, but nothing I can’t really handle–and of course I’ll be watching the LSU game tomorrow morning as well; using the nervous energy LSU games always give me to clean the living room. If it weren’t for the early start time of that game, I’d take some boxes of books to donate to the library sale, but that will have to wait until next weekend, alas. (They’ve been in the living room since Labor Day, and I’ve not pruned the books again since because, well, there’s already too many boxes in the living room.)

And on that note, I’m going to get another cup of coffee and head into the spice mines to start getting ready to head uptown for the doctor’s office. Wish me luck, Constant Reader, and I will chat at you some more probably later on. Have a great Friday!

I’ll Do It All Over Again

Well, it’s Thursday and my week at the office–a very shortened one–will be over this afternoon. Yesterday getting back to work was a challenge. I didn’t have a problem getting up in the morning–I didn’t sleep well the night before–but late in the afternoon I started feeling tired; the low energy from not eating real food is also a thing (I’ve literally lost nine pounds since last Thursday, and nine pounds in five days is not good. If I continue to lose weight at this rate, within two more weeks I’d be down to a weight I’ve not seen since the aughts… I do not recommend this diet to anyone), and I think I may go to bed a little earlier than usual tonight. We were busy at work yesterday and I also had to catch up all my work from the days I was out, but I managed to get it all done and it was indeed a lovely thing. I mailed some things at the post office, stopped and made groceries (more ice cream and yogurt), and then came home to a protein shake for dinner. Yay, more soft food.

I cannot wait to go to Five Guys when this is all over. And pizza. Mmmmm.

I slept well last night, certainly more deeply than the night before, so I feel better this morning. Tomorrow is the visit to the Tulane Institute of Sports Medicine (more on this later), and I also have my hearing aids follow-up appointment. We’re going to be busy at the office today, and I have to stay later than I usually do, which will be interesting. I’ve got a to-do list I need to finish, and hopefully I won’t be so tired when I get home from the office tonight; I’m coming straight home after work for a rare change in the routine. I’m still way behind on the housework and I really need to start writing again; outside of the blog (which counts; I no longer pretend it doesn’t count as writing–which is what I always do when I am not writing fiction: “count the blog!”) and emails I’ve not really written much of anything since getting back from Bouchercon. SO much for all that inspiration I had from attending and being in the company of writers! But I think I will be able to get to work on some stories that need finishing this weekend, and some need revision and polishing. I also need to get back to work on Muscles, and writing those proposals that need writing. I don’t have to make a grocery run this weekend, and I am probably going to have to have some things delivered over the weekend, but that’s fine. I paid all the bills yesterday, too. So, it may not have seemed as productive as perhaps I would have preferred yesterday to be, but I did get some things done that needed to be done.

And it would be so lovely to get some more of these short stories done, you know, and out on submission? I only have one story out on sub, and it’s been almost a year since I sent it in to them. I don’t know why it’s taking so long, but that’s also publishing for you. While I do appreciate the convenience of using Submittable, at the same time it makes me wonder how it works on the other side. I was thinking last night, and have been ever since the Anthonys, about writing a post about editing anthologies. I have done over twenty of them at this point–there aren’t many people who can say they’ve done more in the genre, frankly, although they weren’t all crime; most were erotica, and I ain’t apologizing for that. I think only a few were actually crime and/or horror, which is kind of surprising. You’d think I’d have edited more crime anthologies than I have, but that is not the actual case. I think I’ve only done five crime anthologies–the three Bouchercon ones, and the queer noir ones I did with J. M. Redmann (Jean). I also want to do some more self-interviews; I have the questions from two of the other Anthony nominee panels I was on–best children’s/young adult. and the marvelous questions Leslie Karst came up with for the best humorous category–and I can use them to do self-interviews like I did with the queer crime panel John Copenhaver moderated for Outwrite back in August.

I was a little surprised by the positive response to my post about conference homophobia endured and how things have gotten better since the bad old days when I first started going to the mainstream mystery events. I generally don’t bother with paying much attention to response to blog posts, in all honesty; I try not to think about people reading it because I worry that will trigger anxiety and make me think about what I can and cannot say because of worries about giving offense (I never really want to offend anyone accidentally; I do not care about homophobes, misogynists, and racists being offended by my blog because that’s a bonus for writing it. But one core tenet of my life is to never hurt anyone’s feelings through carelessness; I know what that feels like and frankly, carelessness is worse than deliberate offense, I think, because the person puts no thought into being careless, which means you’re not even worth thinking about or your feelings simply are irrelevant; I prefer planned hatefulness because as least thought and effort went into it, if that makes any sense at all. It does in my fevered brain). But it did get a rousing response. Why was it time to write it now? I’d been considering writing that post for a long time. It’s been sitting in my drafts since Pride Month, which was when I wanted to post it, to strike another blow against homophobia and homophobes, but got sidetracked by all the boycott bullshit. Then I was going to post it before Bouchercon–the morning of the trip actually, but couldn’t get it finished before i had to leave the house. Being at Bouchercon–and being around my Queer Crime Writers–made it seem even more important than it was before I left because I do not want my Queer Crime Writers to ever be made to feel the way I felt when I encountered the homophobia at Bouchercon. I do feel very protective and paternal of the group, which I know is infantilizing them; they are adults who’ve faced it before and will face it again, but I want to spare them the ignominy of being belittled and demeaned by colleagues and bigoted programmers. That was what I meant by my presence making a difference at these things over the years–if I was the lightning rod that drew the homophobia out so it made things easier for this new generation of queer writers, I can actually live with that. If some good comes out of my hard times for other people, that’s something I can get on board with, really. I’ve never considered myself a ground breaker; while I think I’ve accomplished some terrific things with my writing over the years, I don’t think future generations will be studying my work for insights into the time in which I lived and what it meant to be queer in the late twentieth/early twenty-first century. You never know, but I think it’s highly unlikely.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again soon.

Paper Rosie

Wednesday morning and back up at an ungodly hour to make it back to work. But I was also kind of tired of lolling around the apartment on pain meds, doing very little to nothing, including not much thinking. It’s nice sometimes to not have to think, but I always worry that not using my mind is making it lazy, if that makes sense? Probably not, but I know what I meant. I always worry that my brain will atrophy if I don’t use it. Well, that made more sense. See what I mean? You see why I am concerned?

I didn’t sleep well last night–not bad, just not great. I’ve gotten used to ten to twelve hours of sleep per night since the surgery, so I wasn’t sure how getting up this morning would go. Not bad, to be honest; I don’t think I had a good night of sleep because of anxiety about not waking up, but I feel okay so far. I’m just so tired of soft food. Today I’ll be taking baby food with me to the office, and I am not really looking forward to that, in all honesty. I think I’ll take ice cream for lunch–I will miss eating ice cream every day when my mouth finally heals, but I am so ready for solid food you have no idea. I am so going to Five Guys when this is all over!

I didn’t get much accomplished yesterday. The pain pills don’t make me loopy the way the ones they used to prescribe (the highly addictive oxy family of opiates), but they do something to the wiring in my brain that doesn’t quite make sense to me. I did get a load of laundry done, another load of dishes, and I filed and straightened up the workspace–which looks a lot more bearable this morning than it did yesterday morning–but I didn’t get as much accomplished as I would have liked because my mind was spacy and I kept losing track of time. Paul got home late last night and we watched another episode of Painkiller, which is such evidence of how broken our entire system is (I still get angry at the Sacklers just thinking about it) that I don’t know how anyone could watch it and not fall into despair.

I did find myself–I blame the pain meds–falling into a pit of anxiety yesterday afternoon, spiraling and everything, but once I realized what was happening I thought use this nervous energy and that’s when I started cleaning. I put the kitchen rugs in order and swept, put away dishes and started filing and organizing. My computer files are a disaster that will take days, if not weeks, to sort out; I did make some attempt at it yesterday to no avail. I also went into another research wormhole about the Filipino community of southeastern Louisiana–I love that there’s always something new and startling to learn about this region–and I really would like to write about Manila Village, or St. Malô; it was known by both names. It could be another Sherlock story, I think, since I so strongly established him in 1916 New Orleans; Manila Village/St. Malô was destroyed in the hurricane of 1915 (which also wiped Freniere off the map, and I want to write about Freniere as well; the witch’s curse and all)–a lot was going on in the New Orleans era during the twentieth century teens decade (there was also an outbreak of bubonic plague and the last really bad yellow fever epidemic during that decade, and then of course there’s the banana wars, which is also endlessly interesting) and of course, I would love to write about it all.

I want to write about everything.

It’s also Pay-the-Bills day; time slipped past me while I was recovering from this oral surgery mess–and of course Friday is my appointment with the Tulane Institute of Sports Medicine about my arm (I’ll talk more about that later)–and I do think that I am going to need to work on the filing system this weekend. The LSU-Mississippi State game is at the ungodly hour of eleven a.m., so I can probably get some work on the filing done during that. I have duplicate files and the problem–the primary problem–is I allowed the files to get out of control during the pandemic and the system I’d been using completely broke down. The file cabinet itself has been a mess for years, and what I really need to do is decide on a new system or figure out if the old one can still be used, despite how much work it’s going to take. I also need to take stock and figure out what needs to be worked on and what needs to be done, and where I am at with everything. I don’t have any contracts currently in place (which is usually a very scary place for me to be, frankly, but I am not letting the anxiety about that make me do what it usually does; throw out a bunch of proposals only to end up with too many deadlines and more stress than any writer needs.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Here’s hoping my energy doesn’t flag and I make it through the day safely. I hope you also have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again probably tomorrow.

Torn Between Two Lovers

Tuesday morning and back to work tomorrow. I had thought about canceling my sick time and going back into the office today; but I got so easily tired yesterday that I changed my mind. I’m pretty sure a lot of it has to do with the starvation–liquid and/or soft food just isn’t satisfying, and I am hungry all the time (one would think a diet that includes ice cream would be awesome, but I am so sick of it all I think I may never eat it again once this is all over). Well, not all the time, but I do feel hungry here and there before it, as usual, goes away. I think the low calorie intake is also affecting my energy levels. I’m a bit sore this morning (was hoping to not get loopy from taking pain pills today, but I’m going to have to) and I’m still a few days away from chewing noodles or anything soft like that, so it’s more baby food, oatmeal, and protein shakes for me today. Woo-hoo.

One thing I absolutely need to do before going back to work tomorrow is clean out my inbox, at least for today. There’s a couple of little things I need to definitely get done, or get started, today while I have the leisure of not being at the office. It’s going to feel weird waking up at six tomorrow morning, but…no other choice. It would be great to stay out until my mouth is healed completely and no longer aches, but I don’t have that kind of sick time left from everything that went on earlier in the year and so forth–and I have a surgery to be scheduled yet. I guess I’ll worry about that when it comes to it, and when I know when the surgery is going to be. I also need to get a grip on my finances again and make sure all my due dates are on the calendar. I also have spent money with the debit card that’s not recorded so I don’t know my bank balance for sure, either. All things that can be easily remedied, of course, but tend to be a bit tedious and so I dislike doing them.

We are currently watching Painkiller, which is yet another mini-series built around the evil corrupt Sacklers and the opioid epidemic they started in order to make billions by convincing doctors that their version of heroin wasn’t addicting. The Sacklers were undoubtedly be studied by future historians as an example of the worst kind of horror capitalism and its ethos of greed is capable of creating; the paralysis of the FDA and the corruption inherent by bribing (er donating) money to politicians to advance the gutting of what little power the FDA had to monitor and control this sort of thing, and so on (looking at you, paragon of corruption and enemy of the people Marsha Blackburn!). The suffering and destruction and death and havoc wreaked on families and communities while these monsters and their agents of addiction and death made money is incalculable…and they don’t care. Even after all the lawsuits, after losing the company, all the deaths, the Sacklers are still sitting on a mountain of money. They are pariahs, rightfully shunned, but dollars-to-donuts they’re back manufacturing medicine in twenty years when most Americans have forgotten their heinous crimes.

I seem to have let yesterday slip through my fingers in a painkiller fog–super strong ibuprofen also messes with your head the way Vicodin and oxycodone do–but it’s more of a losing track of time sort of thing. I did get the sink cleaned out and did a load of laundry (waiting to be folded) and there’s all sorts of filing and organizing to get done this morning. I want to read more of Shawn’s book today, and I’d like to get prepared for going to work tomorrow with a clear conscience. The great heat wave has finally broken. It’s still humid but not as bad, and it’s not getting as hot as it had been during the course of the summer–it actually feels pleasant when I go outside.

My tests for COVID are still coming back negative so I am going to assume I missed the Bouchercon spread. I hope everyone who did catch it at (or around) the convention are on the road to recovery and all had very mild cases. I’m seeing my new primary care doctor a week from Friday, so I am hoping to get the new booster and a flu shot when I see her. I am also hoping to get some feedback from her on the big toe on my right foot situation; you probably don’t remember but it’s been sore since Mom went into hospice and was swollen so badly I had to wear house shoes to her funeral? He gave me anti-inflammatory cream and that was it. Well, it’s eight months later, it still hurts when I bend it, and it still swells up periodically–not as bad as originally, but I can’t help but think it might be something more than what he rather pointedly dismissed? He was wrong about my arm, after all. And now the other big toe is starting to do the same thing.

But I’m sure it’s nothing.

Uh huh.

Forgive me if I don’t believe anything that hack said to me about anything.

But that’s a story for another time.

I do feel more like myself than I have since the surgery on Friday, so that’s something…but then I also just took my pain meds, so I don’t know for sure how long that feeling will last. But I have to do something about this mess around here, and maybe I can even do some writing today. I have already started working on the plan for the sequel to Death Drop, and I also need to plan out the sequel to A Streetcar Named Murder. I already know what the story is behind that one; I just don’t have a title yet but I do know what the first chapter is going to be. Maybe I should just go ahead and write that, get it under way and see how it goes? I also want to start working on the edit of Jackson Square Jazz, and maybe even revise it some. I resisted the temptation to revise and re-edit the Chanse books for their ebooks, and did the same for Bourbon Street Blues, but Jackson Square Jazz is actually the book that sets the backstory for Mississippi River Mischief, so I need to be certain everything lines up the way it’s supposed to–and I can also change some things predicated on what has happened in the series since, because I know what is coming (which I didn’t know when I wrote the book originally). This might also be a good time to finally put together the Scotty Bible (I’m only nine books in now) which should make writing the next one even easier. It’s a lot of work, but with my memory getting shittier and shittier with every passing day, it’s something that really needs to be done. If I write another Chanse (it’s possible; I never say never), I would definitely have to do the same because I really don’t remember much about any of those books.

And I have some short stories that need to be finished for anthologies.

So on that note, I am calling this entry for the day and heading into the spice mines. I may be back later; there are still unfinished blog posts in my drafts (I’ve managed to get some of them out there over this past weekend, even though I don’t count blog posts as writing, it really is and I really should), and of course, laundry to fold and dishes to put away and a refrigerator to clean out. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader!

Two Dollars in the Jukebox

This marvelous interview with the amazing Margot Douaihy dropped while I was in the midst of Bouchercon or preparing for it, so I always intended to share it around on social media (what a thrill to be name-checked by such an amazing new star in the world of crime fiction). Her debut crime novel Scorched Grace was so phenomenal that I still think about it from time to time; her New Orleans was so exquisitely and artistically rendered that it gave me pause–and also made me wonder if I’ve been coasting and not working as hard as I should. (I always think that when I read a work that blows me away–I should try harder.)

Yesterday was spent in my chair watching college football and making notes in my journal on projects that are upcoming or are currently in progress. Despite all the sleep (I slept for eleven hours Friday night, and again last night) I still feel a bit out of it and drained and tired; but I am going to take a shower in a little bit and I am sure that will perk me right up. I did read some more of Shawn Cosby’s newest book but those opening few chapters hit me right in the soul and it’s going to take me a minute to process it. I also posted like three or four entries yesterday, too–I finished turning John Copenhaver’s questions for the Outwrite DC panel into a Greg interview (I plan on doing the same with the questions from the Bouchercon panels because I can, mwa-ha-ha!), also finished my entry announcing Death Drop, and another one about how The Children’s Bible was one of my first sources for images of hot muscular men (thanks again, Golden Press, for those sexy illustrations! I didn’t even mention Samson), so I am making progress on getting these drafted blogs finished and posted.

I feel a little pain in my mouth this morning, so I rinsed with salt water and took my pain pills. Pain is draining and exhausting, even if you take something for it, so that’s why I think I was so behind the eight ball with everything yesterday–it’s certainly why I am sleeping so much and so deeply, for which I am eternally grateful. There’s no more bleeding, which is great, and I am trying out hot coffee this morning (caffeine deficiency may have played a huge part in the tired thing yesterday). All I ate yesterday was protein shakes and ice cream (Haagen-Dasz strawberry; today is vanilla bean) which was weird and not very filling; I am going to have to go buy yogurt and more ice cream tomorrow, methinks, and explore some other soft food options, like oatmeal. I am going to have oatmeal for breakfast this morning–I actually like oatmeal and am not sure why I stopped having it in the mornings–and then see if I can figure out some other things. I bought some soups, so maybe I can soften crackers in the soup too. I remember moving back onto solid foods was an issue the first time around, so I have to keep that in mind as I slowly start reintroducing solids back. I know I will miss this unashamed and unabashed deep dive back into ice cream. My face also never swelled up, which is another indication of how good my dental surgeon was. Well done and bravo, sir!

The highlight of the day yesterday for me was watching Coco Gauff win the US Open. How absolutely delightful, and how delightful to have a young American star again to root for. I love tennis, but there really hasn’t been anyone on the women’s side with a larger than life personality like Serena Williams, or just flat out charismatic and likable (like Kim Clijsters) to watch and root for in a very long time. I think the guard is also gradually changing on the men’s side, with the Federer/Nadal/Djokovic triume slowly retiring as they get older, and it’s fun to see rising young stars like Carlos Alcazar play, too.

As for football, well…the Alabama-Texas game was exciting to watch, if strange; I’ve not seen Alabama play that sloppy or poorly very often in the seventeen years or so since Nick Saban came to Tuscaloosa. I also can’t remember the last time Alabama lost so early in the year–which means a second loss ends any play-off hopes they may have unless they go on to win the SEC. To see Alabama lose in Tuscaloosa by ten points to a non-SEC team early in the season? Unthinkable. The conference is not off to a great start this year; Miami roasted Jimbo and A&M yesterday; LSU’s horrific loss last weekend to Florida State; Mississippi got super-lucky to beat Tulane yesterday; and the rest of the conference isn’t exactly off to a great start either–even Georgia hasn’t looked invincible in their two wins, despite the margin of victory. The SEC is due for an off-year anyway; we’ve literally won four national championships in a row (2019 LSU, 2020 Alabama, 2021-22 Georgia) with three different teams, which is something no other conference can say this century, and also doesn’t include Florida, who won two in the aughts (as did LSU: LSU was the first team to win two titles since championship games were implemented). The only teams not from the south to win national titles this century are Oklahoma and Ohio State, and Oklahoma might as well be a Southern state as it’s not really in the Midwest either. In fact, the only two Big Twelve team to win national titles this century–Oklahoma and Texas–are joining the SEC next year. I’m still not sure how I feel about the realignments and conferences being killed off, but…the sport has changed dramatically since I was a child and ABC held the exclusive right to air games. LSU blew out Grambling State last night 72-10, and looked much better than they had the week before in that embarrassing loss to Florida State; but there’s also a big difference between FSU and GSU. I guess we’ll get a better idea of what LSU is like once we play at Mississippi State next week, and we’ll see how well Alabama bounces back from this disappointment for them. Auburn did manage to hold off California last night (I went to bed), but I also think Florida lost their opener to Utah? Yes, they did, or maybe it was Oregon? Regardless, they lost. Pity. (I despise Florida, and will only root for them when they play someone I hate even more, like Tennessee.)

So, today I am going to take it easy one more time without feeling guilty for not doing anything productive. I am going to do some chores–emptying the dishwasher, maybe some filing to clean up the mess that is currently my desk situation, and the refrigerator needs cleaning up too–and repair to the chair to read Shawn’s book for a bit. I also am going to make another cup of coffee and perhaps some oatmeal, washed down by a protein shake. I don’t know if my heart and blood pressure can take watching a Saints game, but Paul will want to watch and there’s also the men’s final for the US Open today. And maybe I will finish some other blog posts. One never knows, really.

Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader–and if I’m not back later, be sure I’ll be back in the morning.