So here’s where it stands. Slept in the guest room last night, giving us both a chance to rest. Was up early, coughing, and went down to the cottage straightaway. Put in another decent morning of writing. Got antsy around noon and called the doc’s office. Left a message and waited for a call back. Skipped rope in the meantime, and when the call did come it was to tell me they’d call me back to discuss the surgery in four or five days. Screw it.
Did a few more chores, talked to MP about a new scriptwriting gig, then went upstairs to read a while and nap. Also drew up some new cartoons for Jack and Matty.
Need to give mom a call soon. Only been a few days since I spoke to her, but it feels like weeks.
Wyoming seems like a distant dream at this point. Probably won’t get up there this year the way things are working out. Should probably try and get in a couple of days of fishing when I have the chance, though I’m not sure what sort of figure I’m going to cut with my casting arm being what it is.
No, no. Not the time to throw in the towel. Gotta keep a clear head and keep punching—even if it means punching with one hand. Still have a novel to finish and new stories to write. Lucretius suffers no whiners or malingerers, and neither will I..