I could have blogged last week. But it would have been from a strange space-cadet kind of place with a weird reverb from Vicadin and muscle relaxants and lots of Advil. Normally I don't take even one Advil. But when I need them, I'm pretty desperate. The whole right side of my back was in muscle spasms all week after "ski week" in Tahoe. I wasn't actually skiing, just trailing the kids around the mountain dragging a heavy tote bag on my shoulder. It had my whole book manuscript, which I decided to revise again and somehow thought I would have hours a day to work on while everyone else skiied, and a heavy journal, again that I would theoretically be writing in, plus all the miscellany and water bottles and extra jackets, etc.
So this week, instead of blogging, or doing much of anything else, I spent the week moaning, napping, and eating. A lot of eating. "Oh, yeah," my doctor told me when I went in for my yearly physical today and almost passed out when I saw the number on the scale, "Vicadin does have a munchies effect." That would explain the loaf of bread, two sticks of butter, and "secret" chocolate stash that mysteriously disappeared in the middle of the week.
This week it's just raining a lot. Except for having to drive in it, I don't mind it so much. It reminds me of home. We also saw two rainbows today. And that's pretty lucky.