Thursday, December 10, 2009

On my way out the door to my reading on Sunday, I slipped on some ice causing some serious tailbone pain. All week it's been Oh my aching ass! I can't sit for long periods of time. I can't bend very well. It still hurts, but today the pain is finally lessening. I have a pile of NTM submissions that I did nothing with, despite my intentions, because well, right now I sort of hate everybody and figure that extends doubly-so to poems. Everyone is annoying. Jokes aren't funny. I'm moving and acting like an elderly, cranky scrooge. I must be a real treat because Gideon keeps informing me that my "bum doesn't hurt anymore" -- he wants me to get over it already. He doesn't understand, healing takes time.

But things are looking up. This afternoon I found a dress for tomorrow's Google holiday party with ease. It made me really happy. Some Advil, a bunch of champagne and tomorrow I bet I'll feel outstanding.

1 comment:

  1. Commiserations - there's nothing worse for a writer than a bum you can't sit on.