I know I didn’t post a photo with quote on Friday but, well, let’s just say it’s been a heck of a week.
Between Nessa being put down (I still call out her name when I come home), my tooth being pulled (along with the requisite complications – sigh), and my computer dying this weekend, I’ve been in better spots.
A little bit of information on teeth that have been pulled. There’s a complication out there called “dry socket” basically it’s my new tool to keep the kids in line. Instead of “you’re going to be grounded for that one” I’m threatening them with “you’re going to get a dry socket for that little move, missy.” Trust me, once you’ve had a dry socket, you’d behave for the rest of your life if it ensured you’d never have to have one again.
You know when you read in a book that someone is so traumatized they curl up in a fetal ball and just rock back and forth, and you think, “that’s a bit over the top,” right? I’m here to tell you that every time you read a passage like that you should contact the writer and tell them they are brilliant. Because they have captured EXACTLY what you do when you are truly traumatized.
I spent the entire weekend either curled up in a ball or walking around like a zombie (and not The Walking Dead cool kind of zombie.)
This is what I (still) have to do. I eat some food (soft like soup or mashed potatoes) so I can take the medication, but the food irritates my tooth and jaw, so if I didn’t need medication before I certainly need it now. After I eat anything I have to rinse with water, brush my teeth, and then rinse with mouthwash. Then I have to shove a clove oil soaked tiny cotton ball into the toothless socket. After all this, I lie on the couch with an ice pack until everything kicks in.
And then I have to pretend that I’m really interested in my daughter’s soccer game.
Add to this my computer crashing (and yes, I was going to get to those backups someday, I swear) and realizing that if it was non-recoverable I was going to be ending my writing career and instead picking up a job at our local Burger King (as soon as my jaw pain would let me get out of the bed) and you have an idea of what its like to be literally down and out.
Yeah, it’s been tough, but today is Monday, another day, another week. Marc was able to retrieve my files from my laptop by booting it up with a Linux disk and has jury rigged a tiny computer up to an external hard drive (ooooh, don’t I sound all techie) so at least I can write.
And things are never so bad if you can write.
I’ll be able to get my blog posts out and an article done that I need to submit by this afternoon. Perhaps most importantly, though, I’ll be able to get an agent requested book sample along with a proposal on my chicken stories out this week. (color me hopeful)
Writing about the kids and chickens gives me a focus that is beyond myself. It offers a connection to the bigger picture, the reason for it all, the lessons learned. It’s an effective pain killer on all levels.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, no matter what life throws at me, if I am still able to sit in front of a computer (or even just have a notebook in hand) and write, then it’s all good.