I ain't dead

It's the little things that keep me from blogging. Specifically, of late, my left pinkie finger. I keep forgetting that it has decided it isn't stable anymore, and thus I keep slamming it against the keyboard as if I could actually type with it. I'm going to have to do one of two things: Either I remember to type like my daughter, who has never had use of her pinkies, or I actually remember to schedule a visit to the hand therapist and get the pinkies splinted up. Me remembering either one doesn't seem to be happening. You'd think the pain and annoyance would be enough reminder.

Note to anyone else who is in the process of getting finger splints: When they ask you which joints you want splinted, even though you would like to hold the cost down, go ahead and get your pinkies done even if they don't seem to be much of a problem. Otherwise, you'll be like me, grumbling "ow!" every few keys and then just closing down the program to go do something that doesn't threaten to dislocate your poor neglected pinky.

Other than pinky abuse, I've been having a pretty good time of things these past few days. I did take health leave for a few hours Monday last week. Thanks to the combination of EDS and the menstrual cycle, I was a collapsing mess all day. Menfolk, you have no idea what it is to have a monthly dose of cartilage dissolving hormones loosening up your already loose bones. By mid-afternoon, my muscles were spasming from the effort of holding myself upright. When the boss suggested everyone taking a "meeting" at a lakeside cafe, the first thought that popped into my head was dread at trying to sit up in a bistro chair.  That's when I knew I really needed to just go home. Ah, home, where my recliner is and gravity isn't trying to coax my head off my neck.

I am actually trying to get another post written, but finishing it will have to wait until I'm up to bashing my pinkie some more.