back in the saddle

I have had that song stuck in my head, along with the songs of various commercials, for about a week. I think it's my brain's way of saying....only 86 days to go until (technically) you're considered healed! Who gives a shit if you only have 205 bones, to everyone else's 206? The doc says it's time to push the envelope and walk normally. Whoa. I mean that's just crazy talk.

But so is sticking with all of the other things that were causing me grief for the last 2.5 years. So is moving for the 10th time in 6 years, soon to be followed by yet another interstate move, shortly after that. As long as it all gets sussed out and I am actually physically capable of moving the boxes, and don't have to rely on a certain macho lad I know, it's all good to me.

So I'm not dead, though not really writing at the moment, but once I quit my job and throw myself headlong into confusion and uncertainty, this may once again pick up. As long as I'm without a job in fact, I should maybe consider taking this writing thing to the streets. See if I can't eek out a byline here and there for myself.

And yes, once again, I cover myself and my relatively un-interesting life, as opposed to commenting on the greater universe and all of the interesting and asinine people in it. It won't always be this way.....