Writing Again

Remember that one time when I said that I'd write again "soon"? Turns out that was a big lie. Who knew?

But I'm going to be honest with you people. I haven't been writing because last week I fell down the stairs in my house and broke both my legs. I couldn't even get across the room to reach my cell phone to call for help. Every movement was excruciating. I survived for five days off a single stale cracker and some granules of laundry detergent. The kind with bleach. Finally, some people from my work stopped by and took me to the hospital. The only thing that got me through it were thoughts of this blog.

Remember that one time when I said I was going to be honest? That was the bleach talking.

But honestly, some may be eager to hear details relating to my previous post about the girl. While it is true that I am dating her, and we've been spending a lot of time together, there isn't much more to it. I was trying to buy time, to explain my long absence. We can leave it at that. I am not in love.

Which reminds me of the time I was trapped in my house with two broken legs. Did I ever tell you about that? It gave me a lot of time to think. At first it was empty kinds of thoughts-- like who would sign my cast and whatnot. Then it got deeper: if I had fallen down in a forest, instead of my house, and no one was around, would I have made a sound? And deeper still: maybe I hadn't fallen down the stairs at all-- maybe the bottom of the stairs had toppled down on top of me.

I will try to write more, because I like writing when I am actually doing it. But other things have been on my mind. Complicated things. Like the probability of falling down stairs. And the probability of never falling in love.