Wondering, Waiting, And Getting Old All Suck

Still I wait for word. Tomorrow marks the last two weeks of the countdown to the new date for word on The Last Captain. Last week I nearly lost it an jumped off a career ledge, I am so done with waiting.

And it's probably not the years, it's the milage, but my left thumb has started to ache abominably when in use. Not even heavy use, but light, like making an OK sign with the opposable digit, makes me wince and wish I had a new hand. Luckily, I can still hit the space key with it. Shifting on the bike is also not a big deal, so I wonder what it is that I did to it to make it punish me so.

As with most things, it isn't just one or even two things that wear on the soul, making me want to tear up and move on. Things are not so good right now. Not world-ending, but they could definitely be better. Couple that with my inability to ride a few days a week (I do cold, I do wet, I just don't do both together), and I am missing some of my stress release activities.

But when I get down like this, I get together with my friends, hold the Coolness, or make my daughter laugh till she can't draw breath, and start to feel better.

It is so very good to be loved. It is so very good to have places to put this pain.

If Laughter is King, my daughter's laughter is an Empress holding sway over all the heart's affairs, making all tolerable, setting the world to rights.