So, I've been gravitating towards more literary books lately, but so much contemporary literature is nothing more than "bad things happen to good people." Suicide, incest, dysfunction and death make up the notes of the canon. I just read this book called "Split Estate" by Charlotte Bacon about a father and his teenaged children recovering from the suicide of the mother. A depressing subject, I know, but I was under the impression that there would be horses, as much of the book takes place in rural Wyoming. But there was too much beautifully written dysfunction and depression and not enough overcoming the grief. The book (like all "good" literature) ends in near despair and utter ambiguity. I don't need total happy endings, but I'd like something with a bit more closure than a 17 year old wandering out of his truck in the middle of nowhere in the middle of a blizzard. I'm just sayin'.
I just missed 3 days of work due to a sprained ankle that I got when I was rushing down the stairs to answer my cell phone. I thought I was on the last step and pitched my weight forward.
I was not on the last step. I was on the second to last step.
I smashed down on my ankle so hard I saw stars and had to call my parents to take me to the emergency room because I was so sure it was broken. When I took my sock off, it looked like somebody had stuffed a bisected baseball under my skin. But the good doctor gave me a shot of toradol and sent me home. The next day I was pretty much imobile. I really don't understand how people go about their lives on crutches. I can't swing more than a few feet without my arms aching and I found them so exhausting. Fortunately I could put some weight on it after 24 hours and I've been hobbling around ever since. Today I've adopted a more "Lurch" like gait. But it's on the mend. I just couldn't figure out how to get to work. Fortunately I can do 95% of my job from home.
That's all for now.