Well, not the whole time, obviously.
This year was veddy veddy bad through about the third week in February. Nothing bad happened to us, but there’s only so much you can stand there and receive news that friends, some of them younger than you, have died before you become a wee bit loopy.
So I became a wee bit loopy, and couldn’t work at all. Even doing the blog became pretty hard. Mostly I got it out, but there was a lot of not a post posts.
And then I went to ConFinement in TN.
I didn’t want to go. These days I don’t want to go anywhere, frankly. I had a meltdown just before Christmas at the idea of the boys and their respective wife and fiance coming for Christmas day.
Note these are the people I love best in the world, and two of which have seen my house in such profound disarray they could arrive to find I’d decided we didn’t use chairs anymore and not bat an eye.
But I panicked, and would have cancelled if I didn’t want to see the boys so badly. On the day, it went fine.
However, the prospect of going to a tiny con, mostly with people I’ve known for years, sometimes granted only on line, had me trying to figure out if I could get in an accident just enough to be hospitalized.
Needless to say it went fine, save for my eating too much yellow cheese puff balls — what do they put in those things? — instead of real food, and getting myself in a state.
Let me point out the con had a fine hospitality sweet. I just have a depraved taste for puffy cheese balls, which is why I never buy them, ever. But at cons, you know? I can’t resist them.
Anyway, came home to the usual con crud-ish, but weirdly uplifted, and my mood has been better since. Perhaps the cure to depression isn’t more solitude? (Pshaw, that’s crazy talk.)
But here’s the thing: I’ve gotten kidnapped by the weird book. Yes, that weird book. Which is a pain because I wanted to finish Dead End Rhodes. But at this clip, I should finish it this week — first draft — then do the other stuff, and maybe, (I can hope) still publish before the end of the month.
For now, I’m going to put put another installment of the growing NML for the paying subscribers, and then…
Well, and then we shall see. But I am in fact writing. (Wish me luck.)
<BLOCKQUOTE>Perhaps the cure to depression isn’t more solitude?</BLOCKQUOTE>Studies indicate that the root cause of happiness lies in doing things for others, of contributing to Society. I wouldna know, but it sounds like an argument in favor of Free Markets.
I'm sorry to have learned too late about the Confinement appearance to attend, although I find human interaction stressful, laden with sideways glances and hasty "excuse mes" of dubious credibility.
Had I the Dearly Departed to drag along I might have made the drive on the day's notice all the same, as Beloved Spouse ably handled most human interaction, enabling me to get by with naught but an occasional interjection. Under the current circumstances ... Well, let's just say I don't think that's what she'd have deemed satisfactorily getting her ashes hauled.
~
Rgrds,
RES
We all have such moments. We're all blessed yours are punctuated with great prose.
I am stuck between "Get well soon!" and some inanity about thank you for writing to us.