Hi. I’m not gone. I’ve been dealing with a shoulder injury for the last month and a half and it has wrecked my whole life. I know that sounds dramatic, but legit, did y’all know your shoulder muscles are connected to pretty much everything you do when you move? It is getting better, though, and I’m able to do more things without wanting to rip it off and be done with it already. But I reinjured it a couple weeks ago trying not to crush my nephew when he punched me as I was trying to put something away while leaning over him. He’s just a baby, he didn’t do it on purpose. But the Tato Boy has a powerful punch. Or just really, really solid aim.
Because I’ve been in pain pretty much 24/7, I haven’t done much writing. I’ve also slept like shit for about a month and a half. But I’m in physical therapy and all that. I did start editing again recently because I reached the “fuck it, we ball” stage of this and decided I’d just ignore the pain like I’m practiced at ignoring everything that bothers me.
Just kidding, this kind of pain is persistent and intense. It’s been an adventure. My day job has also been kind of hectic. We integrated another bank with ours and there have been some growing pains, shall we say. I don’t mind it, usually. Sometimes the workload is enormous, but the new systems and things will eventually be kicked in fully and we won’t be so stretched. I work mostly from home now, which has been super helpful with my shoulder because driving makes it way worse, so I don’t have to be uncomfortable in public for very long if I don’t want to.
I finished reading The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver, Shadows of Memory by Jade T. Woodbridge (she’s my friend!!) and a book called Mule Boy by Andrew (gotta look his last name up because I never remember it one momennnnt) Krivak. That one is probably going to be my favorite book I’ve read this year. Told from the perspective of an old man remembering a coal mine collapse from his childhood (which he was the only survivor), it is harrowing, and claustrophobic, and your lungs feel full of dust as you read.
I want to do a proper review post of it sometime soon. Just gotta… find the energy for such a thing. Typing hurts, sitting hurts, standing hurts, sometimes breathing hurts. Pain is temporary, allegedly. Sometimes I think about this line from a Criminal Minds episode where Penelope Garcia is talking about how when she got shot, she knew the pain was going to end, but the women being tortured by the “unsub” never had that kind of peace. I like to hope this pain is temporary, but as it draws on and out, I get tired and frustrated and want to promise things to evil people just to make it stop. I told someone that if I were ever threatened with pain while being interrogated, I’d fold like a lawn chair.
In any case, that’s where I’ve been and what’s been happening. Editing has me feeling more like myself again, so I try to do more of that every day. I have a plan to publish this book by the end of the year. Plans, goals, and so on.
Thems all the beans in that burrito, friends. I hope you’re doing well, and I hope you know you are never far from a potato. Stay fresh, cheese bags. (if you know you know)
Until next time, friends. ❤
salisbury.fake 