Here's something you might be interested in.
""The willow bends as the oak breaks..." I put down my notes and rubbed my eyes. Seventy-two hours have passed since my surgery and I've definitely got cabin fever. I will spend a week recovering here in North Park before going back to my Palatial Wooden Shack in eastern Tijuana.
I miss Trini already. She is a Mexican citizen and I an American. Our hand to mouth existence prevents us from obtaining things like visas and passports so I must rehab without her. I know my body will mend without her presence but my soul still laments her absence.
I've never had major surgery in my life. When I needed my body to work a sixteen hour shift, get a second job or work a temp job to supplement my income my body was always there for me. I guess you can call this a real confidence shaker.
The good news is that I've accumulated another stack of stories. The bad news is every time I try to post one, it comes out all chopped up. I'm sure it's my fault, which doesn't help the situation much. A few of them I'd actually like to see posted. One of them deals with the passport issue, another adds to a recent Reader cover story and the third is about where I work (The French Gourmet in Pacific Beach).
The last time I had a stack of stories and trouble posting (Border Bombs/San Ysidro garitay), I got really pissed off. Funny how a few incisions in your lower abdomen can change a fellow's perspective on the exact same situation. If those stories never get posted, oh well. That's because I awoke from my anesthesia. So all my prayers were answered. No more wishes for me. Not for a long time. I've used my quota.
In a few days I'll be back in Tijuana (I hope). Sitting on the front porch of my Palatial Wooden Shack and smiling because Trini will be by my side. Her TLC is all the medicine I need.
Maybe my natural inclination toward orneriness will return and maybe it won't. If not that's ok. And if this story comes out all chopped up like the past half dozen or more well that's ok too.
In the end all that matters is my health and that of those I love. The rest is just frosting on the cake. Did someone say cake? I'm feeling better already.
COFFEE'S READY, GOTTA GO...!!!
""The willow bends as the oak breaks..." I put down my notes and rubbed my eyes. Seventy-two hours have passed since my surgery and I've definitely got cabin fever. I will spend a week recovering here in North Park before going back to my Palatial Wooden Shack in eastern Tijuana.
I miss Trini already. She is a Mexican citizen and I an American. Our hand to mouth existence prevents us from obtaining things like visas and passports so I must rehab without her. I know my body will mend without her presence but my soul still laments her absence.
I've never had major surgery in my life. When I needed my body to work a sixteen hour shift, get a second job or work a temp job to supplement my income my body was always there for me. I guess you can call this a real confidence shaker.
The good news is that I've accumulated another stack of stories. The bad news is every time I try to post one, it comes out all chopped up. I'm sure it's my fault, which doesn't help the situation much. A few of them I'd actually like to see posted. One of them deals with the passport issue, another adds to a recent Reader cover story and the third is about where I work (The French Gourmet in Pacific Beach).
The last time I had a stack of stories and trouble posting (Border Bombs/San Ysidro garitay), I got really pissed off. Funny how a few incisions in your lower abdomen can change a fellow's perspective on the exact same situation. If those stories never get posted, oh well. That's because I awoke from my anesthesia. So all my prayers were answered. No more wishes for me. Not for a long time. I've used my quota.
In a few days I'll be back in Tijuana (I hope). Sitting on the front porch of my Palatial Wooden Shack and smiling because Trini will be by my side. Her TLC is all the medicine I need.
Maybe my natural inclination toward orneriness will return and maybe it won't. If not that's ok. And if this story comes out all chopped up like the past half dozen or more well that's ok too.
In the end all that matters is my health and that of those I love. The rest is just frosting on the cake. Did someone say cake? I'm feeling better already.
COFFEE'S READY, GOTTA GO...!!!