This weekend mark’s the sixth anniversary of my marriage. There are days when it hardly seems it’s been six years and other days it feels like it’s been a whole lot longer. I’ll also be turning 34 later this month, and to be honest, there were days when I feared I’d never make it to see that day. Thanks to an awesome doctor and amazing medications, I no longer have that fear hanging over my head.
The husband and I have had a long discussion in regards to my writing. With how badly the cold weather hurts my joints, I’ll be taking winters off from writing from here on out. That’s not saying I won’t be writing at all during that time, but I won’t be writing much. It’s just too painful, and it depresses me when I want to write and can’t or need to and can’t. I will work on finishing up the WIP, but other than that, I’ll be waiting for the Spring Thaw before I seriously put fingers to keyboard again. I wish I could adequately describe the amount of pain I’m in during a cold snap, but I fear this is one instance where words fail me. I have to do what I have to do in order to survive, and sadly, this is what it’s come down to. But at least it’s not a permanent give up writing, just a seasonal give it up. 
And now I suppose I should get back to the morning bus watch. As soon as the kiddo leaves, I’ve got things to do.
