. . . at least until Iowa.
I've lived in DeKalb for a few days, and it's been pretty nice, but it *is* in the middle of nowhere. I like the middle of nowhere. There's a lot of farmland and woods and prairie out here. You know how, if you're driving, the road signs tell you what the next major town is? When you get to DeKalb, the road signs advise you that Iowa is pretty much the next thing of interest on this road, and there's still about 90 miles of Illinois left.
I spent today trying to put things where they belong, or at least in the room they belong. Unpacking with this fucking cage on my foot is difficult, to say the least. Right now the dinosaur computer I write just about everything on is in my living room, and I'm trying to figure out how to get it all to my study, where I plan to do all my writing going forward. (Yes, I have a study. And yes, you may see it when it is ready.) I have two ideas: I can crawl on my hands and knees, pushing each component one at a time. Or I can put each component on a sheet that I can drag behind me as I make my way with the walker.
I supposedly go back to work next week. I'll bet the doc gives me another week of rest first. I'm taking a practice drive during rush hour tomorrow morning to see what the commute will be like. Better than I expect, I hope. But I'll have a better idea of how much time I'm going to have on work days soon. Which means I'll be deciding the fate of GF soon. I started writing these again because I had unexpected time. I might not have the time soon. I'll probably make that determination tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll keep writing these while I can.
I can't express to you how happy I am sleeping in my own bed every night. Not having to wake up twice (sometimes three times!) to refill the air mattress. It's like I've been given a respite in life.
I have to get up early tomorrow, so I'm heading to that bed right now. It will be glorious, just like you glorious fuckers. Goodnight.
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