Writing: A Luxury
There was a time when I enjoyed updating this site. Lately I just don’t. It’s not that I lost interest in writing, or complaining, or reading your lovely comments. Writing (my euphemism for the loaded term “blogging”) is a luxury. It’s a luxury to have the time and desire to write about life.
Right now I am going through a rough patch of assorted, but self-inflicted, injuries. I have only 1 front tooth, had 4 sets of stitches in two months, and come home everyday to a mailbox of medical bills, forms, and assorted documents. It’s hard to maintain a normal life, much less write about it, when time is marked by a sea of appointments.
This is not to say that I request your pity. I’m lucky to have insurance and a stable job and (relative) good health and a caring girlfriend and a caring family. I’m still smiling and there are people, like our good friend Charlie, who deserve a hug and some good karma much more than I.
For now, I heal, fill out forms, and work in lab. That’s enough to keep your author busy.