I know that, Hec, it's just that I really can't afford for this to happen to me now. I can't back out of any of these commitments, and I can't fucking believe how slow this is at getting better! I've got to do this stuff, and my body needs to fucking cooperate for a change.

It's not "some clutter." It's the bathroom and kitchen floors look gross because it's been so long since I've mopped, and the living room floor needs to be vacuumed every few days or it gets gross from the crumbs of what Annabel eats.

And I haven't called my doctor yet because I keep expecting that the next morning I'll wake up with improvement, but I'm planning to call tomorrow. I'm just not sure it'll be fixed by Friday, and I've got to do this wedding. That's how I'm paying for my hotel room at the writers conference and my Golden Heart entry fee.

it's just that I really can't afford for this to happen to me now. I can't back out of any of these commitments, and I can't fucking believe how slow this is at getting better!

I am sorry. It's incredibly frustrating when your body bails on you when your will is strong, and you've got responsibilities.

I think I'm just that much older than you that I've gotten used to the notion that "physically incapable" trumps a lot of other considerations.

I do hope you find some treatment that yields speedier results and much, much less hurt.

It's not "some clutter." It's the bathroom and kitchen floors look gross because it's been so long since I've mopped, and the living room floor needs to be vacuumed every few days or it gets gross from the crumbs of what Annabel eats.

But if you do that, you won't be giving your shoulder the time it needs to heal, you'll just be aggravating the injury. Dylan can mop-master while you're on the disabled list.

There's just got to be some combo of losing weight and exercising more that will make this stop happening. 34 is too damn young to be this old.

It's incredibly frustrating when your body bails on you when your will is strong, and you've got responsibilities.

Truer words seldom spoken.

I live in fear of throwing my back out to the point where I can't sit again, or having my wrist issues act up at the same time as my shoulder issues.

Dear, stop swearing so frikkin loud and quoting Garth Brooks songs.

I'm going to clear out the kitchen now.

There's just got to be some combo of losing weight and exercising more that will make this stop happening.

That's a lot to expect with a baby and a novel-writing career, plus freelancing. Unless you can figure out some way to hook Annabel onto a miniature Ferris Wheel that's powered by a stationary bicycle that powers your PC.

I'm swearing because I can't punch pillows, dear. And what Garth Brooks am I quoting?