Fell off the Face

I recently wandered too close to the edge of the earth and fell off. A family member suddenly became ill and I was whisked away to the magical land of Waldorf, Maryland (major claim to fame: the emo-screamo pseudo-punk sensation, Good Charlotte) for several days. I rushed out, sword-in-hand (spare pants still on bed), to rescue my kin from a victimizing demon of a hospital surgeon and then stuck around as she was fixed by a new, human doctor. Now she’s recovering from surgery nicely and I’m home in time to celebrate the first sultry week of fall.

After days of making it my mission to hunt down nurses for IV changes, spare towels and clean bedsheets, and shuttling non-driving family members the twenty mile distance to the hospital and back, it’s safe to say I’m a little out of the writing loop. In my hasty packing, I’d neglected the luxury of changes of clothing, yet somehow remembered to bring along a giant backpack filled with potential work. At one delusional point or another, I had envisioned quiet nap times filled with productivity. Reality, though, ensured I only got to drag around the shoulder-dislocating monstrosity like a lost Sherpa, doing little more with it than opening it to read a few paragraphs of Weird U.S. from time to time.

Tomorrow, hopefully, I’ll be able to jump back in and reacquaint myself with my routine. I’ll also try to provide a more coherent, entertaining entry in the next few days and make my way around to the blogs of my friends, who I have sadly and regretfully neglected.