Wife’s leg is still broken. Videogames have a lot to answer for. Apparently just going to the hospital or using a medkit is not enough to heal a leg. It takes time.
So much fucking time.
The wife is stuck in the house. We got her a knee scooter so we can take short little trips outside the house but her endurance runs out quick. We can get her upstairs and downstairs or as I like to call it, the Great Migrations. I make her three meals a day plus snacks. We watch a god-awful amount of television. We arrange pillows into towers of strange geometry as we keep her leg perpetually elevated.
My writing has shrunk immensely. I got more writing done when I had cancer. It ain’t easy writing when you can never achieve that mystical state of being-left-the-fuck alone. I honestly don’t know how writers with children do it.
Still, there has been upsides. I have learned to make eggs just the way my wife likes them. I get to park in handicap places which is going to spoil me silly.
The current timeline is for her to get a walking boot and return to work sometime around June 6th. I’ll still need to drive her back and forth but hey, those blessed hours at home by myself will be like a goldmine in writing time.
Until then, let’s see if I can’t keep putting out one story a week.