Hark, An Event!

Blog Post No. 541

It’s actually happening and as I write this, I don’t know how I feel about it. This Saturday, I’m going to be in Chatham at the CKExpo with Christian for my first event since 2019. That’s just in a few days and I’m excited and nervous and feel pretty silly that something I used to do so regularly is affecting me so much. I’ll be wearing a mask the whole time (thanks for the N95, bro) and bringing a big bottle of sanitizer, and maybe a pack of wipes, I haven’t decided.

And Other Things

Blog No. 146

Here we are on another Thursday and I have another Blog post to do. This week was one of those weeks where I totally forgot that the blog existed until Tuesday then I fumbled around for an idea ultimately not coming up with anything good. The sad part is (as it usually the case) I remember coming up with an idea last week, then promptly forgetting it because I was doing something else, or couldn’t be bothered to write it down. Now I’m here, writing this, not really sure where I’m going with it. Who knows what that means (I hope good). We’ll have to hand on for the ride and see where the heck I take us.

Normally, when I sit down to write the weekly blog, I think back over what I’ve done in the past week to come up with the topic (adjusting for proper company and searching specifically for content about writing). Some weeks, looking back is a struggle—that is finding something in the past week to write about is a struggle. Often there are a bunch of usual things that get tedious to write about (therefore likely tedious to read). I generally go writing with Christian, we work on Adventure Worlds, the collection, and our novels. I can often be found at Anchor enjoying the great coffee and atmosphere when I’m not at work. There are very few days where I don’t waste time on too much television and floating around the internet. And oddly, I never seem to read enough. While my days are full, there are plenty of weeks where nothing of consequence happens.

I Hate Hospitals

Blog No. 145

In the last few years (probably going on five or six now, though I always overestimate time) I’ve spent far too much time in the hospital. Granted, any time could be considered too much for the hospital, but it’s even worse when you are the one on the receiving end of the treatment. To be very clear, I want to point out that, other than a little unnecessary waiting and that one time no one in my family could convince the nurses that my well documented disease could be the culprit when they couldn’t figure out what was wrong (it totally was said disease too) my experiences have been as wonderful as could be when ill. Still, that could be rainbows and unicorns and I would still hate going to the hospital (and not just because neither of those things really does it for me). The only type of person I know who actually likes hospitals are sad sacks who crave the attention and sick-os who find it all fascinating or get off on healing people (you know, doctors and nurses).

I hope that dig on doctors and nurses was as sarcastic as I intended it to be. Meh, so. Last week, while minding my own business at work, I got poo-brain. The start of a headache was loitering in the back of my head (not totally unusual) and my eyes were acting funny. You know when you look at a computer screen too long? You writers will understand that. I decided to get some fresh air, and on my way out, I told a co-worker what I was up to, but it all came out wrong. Alphabet Soup (so I’ve heard it called). My words were all jumbled. I knew what I wanted to say and I knew that wasn’t what I was saying, but I couldn’t say the right thing. By my third attempt, I sat in a chair and my quick thinking co-worker sprung into action. He blurted out Hospital (not my favourite place as I’ve mentioned) and I dully nodded and was whisked to emergency for aforementioned poo-brainedness.