Jess is still in the hospital. Still getting operated on every other day, it seems like. The doctors are somehow optimistic, yet unable to refrain from cutting her open over and over again.
I don’t get it.
So I am tired and angry at doctors quite a lot of the time these days. I spend hours knitting at the hospital.
I finished my green socks, but don’t have a photo handy.
I finished my book, too. I need to do some cleanup this weekend – thank god for Columbus Day I guess, though Columbus himself can pretty much go stuff himself up a donkey butt – and get final feedback from some test readers, but it’s done. I hope to turn it in to my editor sometime next week. Maybe. Not as early as I wanted to turn it in, but still ahead of deadline so I’ll take it.
I promise I’ll explain this book thing one day. It’s still very weird to me. Whenever I talk about it, just imagine that I’m laughing like a nervous Brendan Fraser. Because I am.
I’ll be back soon, I hope. Here, have a Trilby.