Context

For about a decade of my life, I worked in theatre in one capacity or another. Over the course of that decade, I had a 20 foot A-frame ladder dropped on me (three times), I fell off the stage (more times), I fell in holes on the stage (twice), fell down a flight of stairs (once), and fell off a truss (once). Those are just the major injuries--doesn't include burns, cuts, sprained ankles, etc.

I tell you this not to make you feel sorry for me, or to comment on my klutziness, or even to brag in some perverse way. I'm telling you this to make my next few statements make more sense.

(It's not whining, it's context.)

The past two days saw snowfall (on Wednesday) and sub-zero temperatures (on Thursday). This meant that every part of my body that was damaged over the time I spent in theatre flared up with pain and refused to let me get anything done.

Yes, even blogging.

And, unfortunately, I won't be getting much blogging in today, as it's finally warm enough that I can move around the house and accomplish things. This is good because the poor house has been neglected (Sammy has been amazing about trying to get the essentials done, but he is working from home as well), and as such most of today will go to whipping it back into shape.

This evening, Rapier Wit and Literary Cat will be coming into town for the weekend, and we're hoping to spend a good deal of time with them. At the very least, tonight will be D&D and tomorrow will be Zios (mmmmmm... good stuff) and general hanging out.

All this to say, if you don't hear from me until next Monday, I promise I'm not dead, just out enjoying the world. That's not to say it's an impossibility I'll post stuff between now and then, but the chances are significantly reduced.

For that, here's a picture of a cat:

This is Nala when we were living in Dallas. Picture courtesy of Sherri.