For the most part, isolation, quarantine, stay-at-home, whatever you want to call it, has not been a huge issue for me. This is when being an introvert has its perks; the only real difference in my life is not being able to ride to Starbucks and sit there for a while, and we don't just go out and wander around stores for no reason other than to get out of the house.
But...I've realized over the last few days that I have been clenching my jaw tight for a month or more. So clearly, there's some stress being felt. Also clearly, I use the passive voice when writing a bit too often...
If it doesn't let up, I'm gonna break a tooth.
But...I still want to try them. So I bought a pair of SPD pedals along with the appropriate shoes, and today I decided to swap the old pedals out for the new.
I cannot budge the old pedals. I'm not nearly strong enough to move the damned thing. Ten years ago, no problem. At nearly 59...problem. And there's a part of me that hopes the Spouse Thingy can't get them off, either. At least then it will owed to the initial installation of the pedals and not because I am that pathetically weak now.
Book two in the Wick shorts series is nearing completion. And it might wind up being longer than the first; a couple stories I thought would be super short decided they would be kinda long, including one that doesn't really go anywhere but still felt worth writing. The cover art had already been planned out, but then the Battleax Editor read one of the new stories and declared it wrong for the book, and also yelled at me for making her cry.
She also grumbled about not being able to make heads nor tales out of an important point in the anchor story, and took umbrage when I offered to use smaller words for her. But mostly, she's mad for making her cry.
I have a doctor's appointment on the 8th, and got online to double check what time. Why the hell would a not-morning person like me make an appointment for anything at 8 am? I had to have been high when I made that appointment...while at the doctor's office...one year ago. At least I'll be appropriately grumpy when she mentions that I have not lost any weight this year, and I'll shoot back, "bitch, you are a tiny, tiny person, and I can break you in half."
(Okay, no I won't. Because she is a nice doctor. And probably won't give a flying fork about having not dropped any weight. She'll be like, "You are not a number on a scale" while I'm "BUT DAMN I EAT 1200-1400 CALORIES A DAY AND I RIDE MY BIKE A LOT AND LADY I AM HUNGRY!!!")
((I am totally eating an entire cake after this appointment.))
(((I really did think I would be down another 30 by now. And I really am hungry.)))
((((No, I do not need diet advice. I need a functioning pituitary.)))
Great, now I'm grinding my teeth, too...