Not Literally


I've been sitting on this computer for awhile now (well, not literally) trying to decide what I want to write. There's so much going on in life right now.

I guess the biggest news is that I lost my job. Honestly, if I'd opened my eyes a little wider, I would have seen it coming. It was a surprise, but I do not blame my boss. She was the best boss anyone could have ever asked for. I told her in the beginning I was with her until the end. I was with her for over 3 1/2 years. That's the longest I've ever kept a paying job. Her needing to continue on without me was in everyone's best interest.

The day after I was let go, I had surgery on my leg. It was painful, the anti-anxiety meds they gave me didn't kick in until after the surgery was over, but it was so worth it in the end. I do it again in about a week on the other leg.

I had a comment today, generally talking about my health and the amount of crap I've had since I've moved in (to the entire neighborhood in 2022). I've had more surgeries than I've ever wanted to go through. I just want to be up and moving. I'm so excited that my one leg isn't in such pain anymore. It was pointed out by someone very close to me that I'm able to take care of all these health things now because no longer am I wondering if these issues are all in my head - I KNOW they're not. I'm mentally healthy and don't have to doubt myself or what I'm being told anymore. I have a wonderful support system helping me before, during, and after each procedure. (It will be nice, however, to be done with everything and just live my life not going to the clinic/hospital as much as I do now.)

I've decided to celebrate my birthday at a writer's retreat again. It's in the same town I went a few years ago hosted by the same author. I'm incredibly excited. I'm hoping this will get my butt back into gear of where I hope to be with my writing. My kick-ass idea is rattling around in my brain waiting to be spewed out onto paper.

Until the next dirt...

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