The evil Mr. Pink Eye decided this weekend that one eye wasn’t enough, so he shot his foul seed into my right eye. Once again, all was well Saturday morning in karate class. A few hours later I looked in a mirror and saw the nasty pink in my right eye.
Back to the drops again. And back to the near-constant weeping. The wife, taking no chances, now sprays down my phone and glasses with the Clorox germ killer, and is one step from just wrapping me in cellophane and being done with things once and for all.
It’s helped contribute to what I’m coming to think of as the Lost Weekend. Life in the real world was just fine, as I was visiting with my parents and brother, taking the kids to the park, and so on. No, it was the online world that was lost. I hardly touched the laptop, so of course the fecal matter hit the rotating blades at full speed.
First it’s always nice to get a critical email from a friend 14 hours after he really needed a response. It turned out to be nothing, but it made for a real sphincter-tightening evening.
Then came the closer reading of an email from an artist requesting a Skype conversation about some sketches for a horror comic project. Requesting said conversation over the weekend. Whoops! Cue litany of apology. At least the accompanying sketch rocks.
Writing? Yeah. Right. Sure, a page in the van, but nothing more. At least copious notes went into the Moleskine about yet another comic project. They don’t mean Jack Shit until they hit the computer and an editor’s email box, but it’s a step closer and at least I feel a little productive.
To top it off, I mistakenly thought I’d taken care of my fantasy teams. Wrong. In one league I played one of the most hardcore managers in the league, and in the other my opponent also forgot to cover his byes. Guess which league is the one I’m in for money?
Yeah. It’s a beautiful thing.