Things are still bad,

but not quite as bad as they seemed last night.  Though it’s still a race to see if my back can get enough good out of the heating pad before my legs decide that having a chair under them is the most awful torture in the history of the world.

Fortunately, I was able to do some writing at my brother’s place by borrowing his kitchen table and its accompanying chair.  I’m not sure if it’s the slight give of the chairs I’ve been sitting in (recliner, movie theater seat, driver’s seat of my car) or if I was just sitting far enough forward that the affected part of my leg wasn’t on the chair, but I was fine to write there.  Except it was getting cold after a while (I’m used to being under blankets in the winter because I am a loser) and also it was getting late.  More the latter, really.

Unfortunately, I can’t really do the same thing at my own house, because my kitchen table (or dining room table, more accurately, as there’s no room in the kitchen for a table, but it’s a hand-me-down table that used to be in my parents’ kitchen, so I still think of it as the kitchen table) is covered in stuff that has no home and is also my resin workshop.  (Yes, I eat my meals in my recliner.  Because I suck.)

Still, I am hopeful I will come up with some kind of solution that will not involve me going insane.

My word count for today was a paltry 1,229 words, which brings me up to 43,046 for the month.