It’s been a while and I’ve decided that I will no longer make excuses for my absences from writing here because I’m an
old grown-ass man and I don’t have any more pretensions about writing to an imagined audience; this is for myself and the robots. Unfortunately, I’ve been away for different reasons and this mostly has been due to my wife’s health. We found out this weekend that she is going to need another round of open heart surgery which is jarring enough by itself. She survived an aortic dissection a couple of years ago which required emergency open heart surgery but this went from an urgent care visit to scheduling surgery in a matter of 36 hours.
Needless to say, it’s been jarring for me and all I have to do is keep the household running in her absence. Despite my natural inclination for solitude when it’s available to me, which is very rare in Covid times, I feel less inclined to do anything and spend more time working the increasingly ragged seam of free form anxiety. Although when I was younger I was often teased about being a living embodiment of entropy I have become increasingly drawn to the quiet comfort of routine. She is the core of that routine and it sucks not to be able to mumble something to her across the room.
