I'm attempting a reboot. It's been at least a year since my last post. Not that anybody noticed.
It's been a rough year, hasn't it. Luckily, I haven't lost anybody close to Covid but, we've collectively lost over 600,000 American souls. Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, grandparents. Gone.
I'm vaccinated but still nervous about being around people. Took a chance the other day and went for an oil change without my mask. It wasn't crowded there, so that alleviated my fears some.
Honestly, I've become somewhat of a hermit. I've been retired a little over a year now. I thought I would spend more time around writer friends and at my local hangout but that hasn't been the case. Of course, the lockdown was to blame at first. But now I use my disability as an excuse to stay home. I am dependent on a walker and driving really hurts my knees. Anybody who lives with pain know these are legitimate reasons to not want to do things.
I'm an only child, so I'm quite use to being alone. Doesn't bother me most of the time. What bothers me is . . . I'm not writing either. You would think with all this time at home I would have cranked out at least one book. Nada, nothing, zilch. My excuse . . . desk chair uncomfortable, no ideas, Dateline is coming on. Not good reasons.
So, it's reboot time baby.
