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Saturday morning. The first morning since Jon’s operation that I could sleep in, and what do I do? Get up. I woke and simply couldn’t get back to sleep. The anaesthesia has finally gotten out of Jon’s system, so the painkillers are helping him sleep; finally. I’m not going to roll around in bed, all restless, and wake him. So, up I get. I’m so tired that the weight of it sits on my shoulders and makes me want to hunch like there’s something real sitting and pressing me down. (Yes, for all you other Wiccans out there I am going to do a cleansing when I get into sacred space for meditation this morning.) Negative moods can attract other negative energies that will feed on, or worsen your mood. Don’t believe me? You don’t have to. I’m not even asking. I’m telling you how the universe works for me and the people I know. Maybe your universe works differntly. But if you aren’t Wiccan, then the next time you feel your mood plumet for no reason, or you feel your burdens are too heavy try prayer, or asking the angels for help. That works,too. It’s all about bringing in the good energy to help you fight off the bad.

I have to say, my mood is pretty dark. I’m tired, and it’s like I’ve been running on stress so long, that as the crisis passes I’m left empty. No, not empty, sad. I’ve started yoga and that’s supposed to help me maintain my mood, but I did it yesterday and any happy effects seem to have worn off today. I’ll get on the treadmill this morning. Yes, that will help. My dogs wander about my feet wanting to be fed. I’ve been dreaming of Phouka. Been dreaming she was alive, and we had a new pug puppy. But last night, if I dreamed, I do not remember. There was nothing but the dark last night. Okay, okay, rally. Must rally. Must drag my ass out of this mood.

Positives: Thanks to everyone that sent well wishes for Jon and his surgery. Thanks especially to the nurses and other medical people that he found most reassuring, since everyone trusts their experts. Thanks to all my friends who have offered to do anything I need to help me take care of Jon while he’s laid up. I really appreciate the offers and may have to take you up on it eventually. Thanks to my publisher for not making me tour for SWALLOWING DARKNESS, since my other half will be on crutches still. (That’s right, folks, the Dracula Ballet and the Wolf Howl here in St. Louis are it for events for the foreseeable future. Sorry.) Charles and I already discussed that he can’t do Jon’s job and his, and frankly, we’re not sure the two of us could travel without Jon. We travel well together, the three of us, we seem to compliment each other. Jon and I can travel together just the two of us, but Charles and I have never tried a trip with just the two of us. We’re not sure that without Jon to help the balance that it would work. Besides, Jon is not allowed to put any weight on his one foot at all for six weeks. If he does, it could mess up the surgery. I can’t leave him alone like that. So, there you go.

Positives: I got eleven pages done yesterday, and woke up with the book alive and eager in my head. That’s very good. Eleven pages, and yoga, yesterday. Pretty good. I’ve had a lot of good friends e-mail, call, and even text. The friends that have stood by me and helped, or just offered to help, are very valued. You learn who your good friends are when the chips are down, and they’re still there. Fair weather friends can be fun, but when the storms hit, they vanish. It becomes too hard for them to deal with, and you’re left with the friends that don’t get scared when the world gets hard, or actually they do get scared, but they stick by you anyway. That’s friends. I have some really good ones, and I am so grateful for them.

We’ve moved down into the first floor guest room for the duration, and I’m grateful we have one. No stairs, and a bathroom attached to the room. Doorways are a little narrow for the wheelchair, but we’re managing. The doctor thinks by Monday Jon’s sprain may be healed enough for him to be on crutches. That will be good. Jon has lost over ten pounds on Jenny Craig. Cool. I’m back in jeans that I was about ready to get rid of, because I was tired of them taking up room in my closet. Very cool. I’m sitting in a pair, as I type this, and they’re loose. Nifty. Now I just gotta hit the weights harder and tighten up everything as I loose the weight. Besides, with Jon injured exercise will be my friend, even more than normal. I’m already wishing I’d hit that upper body work out harder as I lift the wheelchair over the little bumps and such at the doorways of all the downstairs rooms. This part of the house dates back to the forties, so it’s got lot’s of neat features, but most of them are not wheelchair friendly.

I’m off to feed the dogs, finish my breakfast, and either mediate, or hit the treadmill. It’s not quite eight. The day stretches before me, and it can either stretch before as a series of obstacles to get around, a series of challenges to survive, or as new chances to succeed. It’s feeling more obstacle and challenge, but I’m trying to look at it all as a chance to succeed. Must try harder.