Here's the thing - one might assume that because I am confined to the house, I have all the time in the world to write things. One must not assume.
One must instead realize that Heather is a lazy, lazy, cripple who is more interested in finding creative ways to bathe than worry about updating this blog.
Also, I really love to sleep. Really, really love it.
But in all honesty, one of my jobs kept me on payroll since I don't have to be on campus in order to get the work done. The other? Shit-canned me within hours of me emailing them. Nutsacks.
(Best part of it was that it was a temp job, so I literally had no rights. THANKS, ASSHOLES.)
But you know what else? That job was depressing and annoying, and the new boss? She can fuck the fuck off.
Good job that likes me allowed me to do all this awesome fun research at the campus archives. And while that might sound painful to most, I was in my element. As a history major, researching in archives is like, I don't know... Christmas morning? But really, it's awesome. FOR EXAMPLE. In grad school, I did research at the National Archives, and I found a letter from Sigmund Freud to his grandson. Who was briefly imprisoned on the Isle of Man as an enemy alien after fleeing Austria after the Anschluss. What the holy crap is that??!?!
Right, so what I mean is that I continued working, even when hopped up on vicodin, because my wonderful father took me to and from the kickass library every few days and I was able to do research.
So that's one reason that I have been AWOL here. The other is the above mentioned laziness. And lastly, I was very busy coming up with creative ideas for bathing.
I had a stress fracture on the top of my left foot once. It was my first semester of college, and I had a cast put on over break. MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS. I had to get this cast condom thing that protected my cast from getting wet and soggy, which would thereby ruin my life EVEN MORE.
So I ordered one on Amazon, it arrived within days, and I used it a few times before the fucking thing broke. IT FUCKING BROKE.
But all of my swearing is now unfounded, because it broke on the morning of my follow-up appointment, and the cast was removed. So it served its purpose.
Oh my God, do you see what happens when I try to write again after a while? HORRIBLENESS.