A MONTH? ARE YOU EVEN SERIOUS WITH ME RIGHT NOW?
So I fell off the writing wagon, and that's not a thing of which I'm proud, but it's a thing which occurred, and no sense dwelling on it, and no way to climb back on but by writing, which I'm doing right now, so, good for me, damn it, good for me.
(note that it was slightly more than a month.)
A number of stressors accumulated; I managed them, up until the point where I was only pretending to manage them, which I did right up until the point where I could no longer even pretend, and I dropped all the balls I'd been juggling, fell down, twisted my ankle, bumped my head, caught my ankle in the Big Top tent rope, and brought the whole bloody circus down around me.
Note at this point that I've deleted three different paragraphs in which I attempted to explain the nature of my absence. It's harder than it looks, this coming-to-terms-with-it thing. I'll let it rest at "I was sick," and assure my readers that "now I'm getting better," and that'll be the end of it.
A FAR MORE important thing to discuss at this time is the fact that my CFF (Cosmic Friend Forever) K is coming to town in about 24 hours, and I can't even pretend to be restraining my excitement, because I haven't seen that jackass since November, and I am already preparing my hug muscles to unleash upon him a squeeze of mammoth and horrifying proportions.
He doesn't read this blog - actually, I suspect he may not even know it exists - and is therefore unaware of my diabolical and potentially rib-cracking plan of affectionate attack. Please do not inform him. Everyone loves a surprise!
