Tuesday, March 24, 2020

Still here

It's been eight days since my last post, so I figured I'd mention that I'm still alive.  I haven't gotten sick with the coronavirus.  I haven't been killed defending my toilet paper fort from the hordes of corona zombies.  But who knows what the next week will bring?  Shutting down commerce has long-term consequences that have yet to fully manifest, and desperate people do desperate things.

In the meantime, I've got an appointment with the podiatrist.  Hopefully I can get the abscess on my toe dealt with and resolved in a satisfactory manner.  I really want the full use of my foot back.

And now that the flowers of spring are blooming, I'm going to try to step outside every now and then and smell them.  I'm not going to let the abscess, the virus, the economic shutdown, the widespread panic, or any other global catastrophe ruin my spring.

Monday, March 16, 2020

Organ maintenance

Instead of removing a cancerous organ, why not just take it out, clean it up a bit, and put it back in?

That actually happened:

For the first time, doctors have removed a patient's cancerous lung, cleared it of the tumor, and placed it back into the body. The procedure took place at Beilinson Hospital in Petah Tikva, Israel.

Awesome!  :D

Saturday, March 14, 2020

Price-matching again

Clouds of Venus has apparently reverted back to a paid book on Amazon's Australia site.  This happens sometimes.  For no apparent reason, a permafree book will go back to paid.  It makes no sense to me, but it's how Amazon rolls.

Unfortunately, I've got a promotion on the 17th.  I'd really like the book to be free in all territories by then.

Please, Amazon, make the price-matching happen in time.



UPDATE:  Aussie price is back to zero.  Only took a matter of hours.  Dang, KDP.  Y'all were on the ball this weekend.  Cheers.  :D

Wednesday, March 11, 2020

It might be my imagination...

...but I think the abscess on my big toe is less red and swollen than it was yesterday.  Not by much, but a little.

I really hope it's healing.  I really don't want to go to a podiatrist.  I've exhausted my supply of oral antibiotics, but I've still got a lot left in the tube of topical antibiotic ointment, so I'll keep treating the toe as I've been doing.  At least for a few days.

Man, this sucks.  Don't pull out those hangnails, folks.  Clip 'em off if you have to, but don't yank them out, otherwise you might end up with an abscess like me.

Best wishes, prayers, etc. are welcome, by the way, if anyone feels like commenting.

Friday, March 6, 2020

Not my best week

I've got an abscess on my big toe.  I'm treating it with antibiotics, both topical and oral.  The oral stuff is making me feel a little weird.

I'm also dealing with computer issues.  Desktop, not laptop.  It's stuck on the login screen.  It's frustrating, especially when combined with the toe thing.

My writing progress has been zero for a few days.  I'm hoping to get rolling again soon, but my top priorities right now are treating my foot and fixing the computer.

Tuesday, March 3, 2020

A kind man

I saw this commercial for the first time a few days ago:




It reminded me of Gail Halvorsen, the Candy Bomber.  During the Berlin airlift, Halvorsen noticed some German children gathered outside the fence and saw that they were impoverished.  He then started dropping candy bars--via little parachutes--from his plane on a regular basis.

Anyway, kudos to Mr. Williams for doing kind things for his neighbors in Iowa.  We should all be so lucky to have men like him around.

Monday, March 2, 2020

Creepy dream

I had a bad dream last night.  I was in my childhood home--whenever I'm "at home" in a dream, it's always the house I grew up in--when an alien ship appeared and hovered overhead.  It was a huge saucer like the kind from the movie Independence Day.  It started out off in the distance, not directly over my home.  But it was close enough.

That's when I started noticing little action-figure toy thingies appearing on the floor from out of nowhere.  I knew they were either the aliens themselves or were inanimate objects being manipulated by the aliens for reasons unknown, so I declared war on them.  I grabbed a pistol and tried to fire, but nothing happened.  Light primer strike.  I dropped the pistol and grabbed an AK.  When I inserted the magazine, I put it in backwards, so I had to stop and reverse it.  All this time, of course, the little toy things are creeping closer.  It was just like a horror movie where the victim's panic makes the victim clumsy.

I finally got the rifle properly loaded and charged and the red dot-and-circle sight turned on, so I began popping the little devils.  Strangely, the report wasn't that loud, nor was I wearing hearing protection.  That was the rare good part of an otherwise bad dream--no ringing or deafness.

I cleared the house of action figures, but I must have attracted the aliens' attention, because the ship began to move in my direction.  It stopped and hovered directly over my house.  Then a voice blared out, as if from a loudspeaker, basically scolding the town for its disobedience.  It actually sounded kind of pathetic, as if the aliens had their feelings hurt and were whining about not being embraced as enthusiastically as they would have liked.

Then the ship fell on my house.

The roof caved in a few feet, but that was all; the ship hadn't descended as far as it could have.  It was like it was toying with me or threatening me or something.  It was at this time that the rest of my family appeared.  Mom and Dad were in the kitchen with me.  At least, I think it was the kitchen.  At this point, the dream took a turn, and the interior no longer resembled my childhood home.  Anyway, whatever room we were in, I told my parents to join me by the wall where it was safer instead of under the saggiest part of the roof where it might collapse on them at any moment.  Neither were quick to move.  Mom started talking about something or other--I don't remember what--and Dad asked me to change the channel on the television since the remote control was right next to me.  I had to yell at them to get them moving, which they finally did.

At this point, they disappeared, and my sister appeared.  It was my responsibility to get her out safely.  The house as now sort of like a maze, and I had to weave through a tight spot and leap over a wheelbarrow(!) to get us both out.  My sister lost her balance and fell over the wheelbarrow, and she blamed me for not making the area totally safe for her to walk. 

(Yeah, there was a pattern in this dream of family members being idiots.  I promise they're not like this in real life.)

At this point, I woke up.

So what was the point of this dream?  What real-life experiences did my subconscious use to create this particular piece of performance art?  I have no idea.

But I woke up in a slight panic, and I hate doing that.  I'd rather have nice happy dreams and wake up with a smile.  But the subconscious does what it wants.