Come on in and have a seat. I’ll join you in a second as soon as I amble over to the couch again. I’m moving a bit slowly today since I have gone and broken my back. I know, right? I didn’t mean to. Someone must have stepped on a crack. Although, I’m not anyone’s mother, so perhaps not.

It’s not very hostessly of me, but is it alright if I ask you to get your own coffee? Sugar is on the counter, milk in the fridge, cups are in the cupboard right above the coffee maker all as fitting and proper.

Don’t be disturbed if I start pacing. I can’t find a comfortable position to sit in. Horizontal and vertical are alright. Walking on flat ground is alright. Sitting, not so much, and lifting anything heavier than a coffee cup is out of the question.

I took my dog out this morning, and when she went to chase the obligatory squirrel, I about doubled over in pain, except doubling over isn’t a thing I can do, so I just sort of awkwardly bent sideways and winced. I have to bend with my legs. It’s not a very pretty picture since I look like a weightlifter without any weights, but we do what we can.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I’m secretly a little worried about my back. My mother had one disc surgery already and she’s about to have another. In addition to wide feet and her messy, not quite measuring things accurately, mad cooking skills, my mom has also handed down a few lovely genetic gems like migraines and skin cancer. Also, a bad back.

I’m about the age my mom was when she had her first back surgery. Though this time, my achy, hurtyness is all on the right side, which doesn’t seem disc related. Usually, it’s all across my lower back.

I’m hoping it abates soon. Fingers crossed. It’s already better than when I woke up this morning and I had to desperately roll like a overturned turtle to get out of bed. If it’s not better by Monday, I’ll go see a doctor. Promise.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I had a mild panic attack yesterday when I discovered that BlogHer16 is in Los Angeles this year. I’ve never gone before, because it has always been somewhere I don’t live and I’m poor. Actually, the panic attack happened after I posted this on Twitter:

Because that’s almost like a “I might maybe go to this” confirmation and that’s scary. The thought of being around so many people as me–in essence, outing myself–is terrifying. I wouldn’t be able to hide behind the fish. I suppose I could make a fish mask and wear that the whole time, but that would be sort of creepy.

I’ll say this: I might could possibly go if I knew that a lot of you were going, too. Though, to be honest, the odds of me getting my ass in gear and driving 45 minutes to walk into a hotel full of strangers as FOG isn’t very likely. If some of you are going, I could maybe be convinced to meet for coffee somewhere else though.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that my depression is marginally better than it was last week, i.e., I’m not feeling quite so down, but I’m still experiencing the brain haze that I wrote about here:

When it’s bad, like today, I can’t concentrate. I can’t focus. I can’t get the words to come out. They don’t line up in my head properly. I have to prod and pull and cajole them into existence. I sat here for an hour wanting to write something, but couldn’t think of a thing to write about.

Every day this week, I’ve really wanted to write a blog post, but I couldn’t find a damn thing to write about, so I ended up writing fluff for the sake of writing something. When it’s bad, I want to talk about it, but I just can’t find the words. Other than constantly pushing thoughts of meaningless, worthlessness and pointlessness out of my head, the brain haze is the worst part of depression, especially for a writer.

Let’s see, what else? Tomorrow, we’re doing our dork game again. I’m hoping my back is better by then or I’ll have to smite enemies while lying on the couch with a heating pad. Not very Barbarian of me.

Well, that’s about all the sitting I can handle for now. Even this much took forever since I kept having to stand up and pace.

I’ve been monopolizing the conversation. What’s going on with you?