Blaming it on the boot.

My orthopedic walking boot.  I’m clumsy, have lost my sense of balance, and with every step I feel like I’m 8 months pregnant. It’s exhausting.

The last month of braces, I hope.  I have to wear elastics all the time to fine tune my bite.  Once the braces are gone, it’s still not over!  I’ll get a long-term retainer for my bottom teeth that I’ll need to wear constantly until we can afford my molar implant$$$$$$$.  And that might be never – implants are that expensive.

There’s more! I’ll get these last few gripes off my chest and maybe, just maybe that will keep me from wallowing in self-pity all weekend, which I do with such regularity I should just add it to our calendar.

I’m behind with National Novel Writing Month.   I’m not feeling  the story very much.  A friend suggested that  skipping a year wouldn’t be a crime, but I feel like it would be some kind of writing misdemeanor for me.  I’ve done it too many years now to use “not into it” as a reason to quit.  The Nano website has a statistics feature that tells authors when they will finish their novel if they continue at their current pace.  At the rate I’m going I will finish on Dec. 12, turning the project into NaNoDeWriMo, which has a fun ring to it, but is not what I want to do!

Last night, when folding up one of our old wooden tray tables, I made sure to be very careful not to pinch my finger.  Didn’t work.  I pinched it hard – so hard that I was afraid to look it for a minute.  I think it will be fine, but it hurts a lot.

I miss Ghost Ranch and all its space and serenity.  A lot.

I’ll end the whining for now, but I warn you, the weekend is young.

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