The Lost Month

I feel like I’ve lost a month. I spent August feeling like I was underwater peering up at the real world through a distorted lens. I fell coming off the 47 Van Ness Early in the month and sprained my bad (right) very badly. I spent the next five days pretty much living on Kelly’s couch and popping pain pills. The first week back on my own in The City had me feeling pretty darn fragile. I’m still using a cane to get up and down the hill and on and off the bus. I sit in the front of the bus with the elderly and infirm. On the personal front, Kelly and I have had our first couple of rough patches. We worked our way through them quickly and came out with a better understanding of one another. There is something to be said for bringing a lifetime of experiences to a relationship. Here’s to middle age.

Anyway irregardless of what this last month has brought me I’m ready to move on. The usual commitments apply: more writing in my journal, taking and sharing more pictures, tweeting relevant events, eating better, eating at home, writing in my blog, all the greatest hits.