What if No One's Watching?

I think maybe I am feelling better. Walking Chancey was nice--it is a lovely night. He's still hyper, of course, but I'm trying to ignore him. My shoulder is still really bugging me, so I am going to take a bath with some nice lime bath salts here in a bit.

I saw the funniest thing on our walk. We passed a house on our usual route, and the garage door was open. The inside of the garage was packed, floor to ceiling, with all manner of shit. Boxes, bags, loose stuff, bicycle tires...everything you could imagine, precariously stacked. At the very age of the rubble was an old man, sitting in a folding chair. He was watching a tiny (six inch?) black and white TV.

How random is that? I wish I could draw the scene, as the picture in my mind is far more amusing than the one painted by my brief description above.

I am hoping that getting a discussion going on The Phoenix about HPV will lead me to a breakthrough on this stupid paper. The whole thing (and then some) is written in my head and has been forever, but I just can't get it out. I don't know why I am so enamored with this topic...but I am. This is the trouble with picking topics you are highly personally invested in for papers--it's impossible to get started. I am rethinking entering an abstract into the Women's Studies Forum, as the deadline is Friday and I have less than a paragraph completed (though I have a huge marked up stack of articles right by my left elbow).

Adam is coming after all. He'll be here Wednesday night, just for one night. It will be good to see him, if I don't get any more depressed. If I do get more depressed, I am really going to dread having to play hostess. We'll see.

OK. My shoulder hurts. Bath.