A Mish Mash of Maundering Melodrama

There are days when I totally forget my goal to post something every day. I've been going to work like a slave, plopping my butt in the chair and staying there until a specific amount of work is done. It is paying off for the moment but I don't know how long I can keep it up. I'm exhausted by the time I get home. And I'm annoyed because it has interfered with every plan I've made.

The only positive to this is that if I can do what I'm planning, I will be better off than I've been in a year. So, say a prayer that I can finish the items I have slated to finish by the 28th. Better yet, pray for no interruptions for the next two weeks. No phone calls, no walk-ins, no coworker catastrophes, and no boss ineptitude.

A real negative it that I've done none of the "real" writing I had planned. I'm simply too drained. I either read or I crochet, both of which requires minimal movement and occupies the brain in a way that decompresses me. Seriously, crochet is a very calming skill. You don't even have to be making anything important. A single stitch, four large skeins of your favorite color and a hook and you're set... for days if you want. If you hate it, you unravel it and make something else. When you're done, you don't remember what bugged you and you have a beautiful, warm wrap for the cold winter evenings with your favorite book.

I used to do quite a lot of crochet when the boys were small but got away from it. When Jerry died and I was cleaning out the closets I found this huge basket of yarn and some unfinished stuff. I also found one of those large popcorn tins filled with thread. So, I dragged it all out and once I started I realized that grief could be managed if you're under the influence of crochet. And now I'm making things like sweaters and dresses and shrugs! LOL, Sarah has at least 10 shrugs of various colors. A dress is nearly finished. I've made a friend a throw, am working on a afghan for Sarah, and another throw for someone else. It works.

Digression end.

But, no novel work and that ticks me off.

I leave for Atlanta Saturday. It is a six hour drive for me. I will return on Tuesday and go back to work on Thursday. Wednesday is a day of rest. David will be here while I'm gone. So, the house will be occupied by a 224 lb male with hands that can twist the head off a bull should you be so stupid as to break in. I once saw him shoot a mouse hiding beneath a chair in a lamp-lit bedroom with a pellet gun from 15 feet away. I told him he couldn't do it. He hit is twice and killed it. With something the size of a BB! He hit it twice! Oh, get over it. The mouse was trespassing. But while he owns no other firearms, he does have some other lethal weapons... silent ones.

Just sayin'.

I hope to relax during this jaunt. I'm carrying my Kindle, my laptop, crochet and my writing calendar. I need to just do the things I enjoy without anyone demanding something. My aunt and uncle will respect that. I'll have company and privacy. And she's a really good cook. . . with a dishwasher. I'll even load it!

The steroid course I was on has ended. I have had about three weeks without much pain and a brain that is operating at near normal levels. This week the hip is bugging me again. Not much, just reminding me that it is biding it's time. My back is really bothering me but I think this is because I've spent nearly a week sitting all day. I get up to talk with a client, check the mail, send a fax, return or get a file. I am in the very back of my office building. I have the longest jaunt to the files and front door. So I do get some activity. Some days I hate that walk to the front and will make the trip a dozen times before noon. On the plus side, if someone comes in and goes postal, I have the quickest escape route. The back door is just outside my door or I can shatter the window and step out. My car just 50 feet away.

I have no idea where that came from but it is always in my mind. We deal with some potentially unstable folks. Doesn't everyone these days?

I hate Valentines Day. I'm glad it is over.

Monday is another "holiday". I hesitate to call President's Day a holiday. It is not a Holy Day. It more aptly called an "honor day". I like that much better. I save my Holy Days for things that are truly worthy of the title.

And now, I'm going to bed. I've no idea what to call this post and recently read somewhere that titling blog post was a wasted effort. But I like catchy titles and I usually come up with good ones. Well, I think they're good.