Eventually I’ll get on to something resembling a schedule. This is a note to let you know that yes, I am still alive, despite what my twitter feed may appear to indicate.
An economy of words.
Adam Israel
Insomnia and I are old friends who nod in passing, acknowledging our shared history like lovers but say nothing. The latest flare of pain caused by fibromyalgia has rekindled that flame and brought an entirely new facet to the relationship.
We had our first measurable snowfall today — a meager quarter inch or so. I was awake early, or late, depending on your point of view thanks to fibrosomnia day 2. I decided to walk uptown to our favorite breakfast joint where I had three eggs, three slices of bacon, and fried potatoes and onions for under $5. I jotted down some words, made some notes on the next story I’m working on, and on the way back home picked up an extra large half hot chocolate, half coffee at Tim Hortons (which is open…
6 months, 17 days. 201 days. It was May 7th when I had my original issues at the border resulting in my denial of entry. It was three weeks ago that we were planning to have Andrea follow me to California. And then events transpired which changed our mind. A plan was hatched. Action was taken. To our pleasant shock and awe, it worked. I am home. I am officially, and quite legally, in Canada.