Retractions, corrections, meas culpa

It's been a little while since I posted. This is actually good, I think. For one thing, this business of writing about one's self and how one feels all the time can be a bit much. This phase of healing shall be called "enough about me already!" I go to Madison today, tagging along with Geof and Isaac and Bee and they will remove my stitches. I do not anticipate they will keep me, and this is based on some semblance of actual experience, but the fear still lurks, hiding somewhere about mid-spine, that they will. Fear be damned, I am not packing extra.

I have found that working half time, or at least (so far) sitting at my work stating half time waiting for all the right components to show up so I can have a virtual private network, I can manage pretty well. I get sorer as the day progresses, but it's not unmanageable. In fact, it's more managable with reduced pain meds that do not make me feel stoned. You'd think a guy who used to work pretty hard to maintain a buzz would appreciate being stoned on pain meds, but there you go. I guess I like to CHOOSE.

The best and most amusing news has to do with the toilet paper and neighbor confrontation saga. Walker came home from cross country practice the other day with the news that it was HIS friends who had done the dirty deeds, and NOT Bryce, the much maligned neighbor boy. Robyn went over and confessed to the neighbors that they were innocent. I am proud of her. We learned a few things, too.

We learned that the neighbor lady who identified our innocent buddy is not so astute. We know that when things are out of control, identifying local criminals may not be the best diversionary activity. We learned never to discount the capacity of Walker's numbskull cross country team-mates. Ah, karma. Ran over my dogma again!

Think good thoughts. My plan last time was to get the outpatient stuff done and then have my first beer since the wreck. This is still the plan, I think. I hope. Please. It's time to move on. No do overs. Really. I have not pushed limits, I have endured Minerva's determined embrace, I have taken my pills and learned to eat smaller portions, chewing thoroughly. In honor of our old friend Frank, I have glued purple feather to my bum and danced suggestively in the back yard moonlight.

I may continue that one. It was kind of fun.