I have now completed an entire five days without touching a manuscript. I'm not happy about this, but I did manage to get a lot of little junk off my "to do" list. The Youth Corps seems like it's in good shape (knock on wood), I finally got more web site pages dealt with, and I even started looking into bookmarks and bookplates and the like.
So that means next week will be writing week, right? Here's hoping.
I'm feeling solidarity with Tiger Woods at the moment. The corisone shot appears to have done very little, verging on nothing, for my poor swollen knee. I begin to suspect there's more going on here than the doctor has diagnosed, which means I'll have to have an MRI. My pocketbook and my claustrophobia are not amused.
My health insurance has a $5,000 deductible because I live in the Land of the Free--apparently, government health coverage would infringe on my freedom. A week or so ago I saw a TV report about some fellow from Europe who was visiting the U.S. to run clinics for poor Americans who couldn't afford even to get their eyes examined or their teeth cleaned. How is our government not humiliated by this?
Uh-oh. This is what happens after a non-writing week. I get testy and political.
I'm going to go ice my knee now.