more bullets

• My sciatica is so bad that I cannot even walk. I'm going to the physiatrist in about 30 minutes, where (with any luck) I'll get cortisone shots. Or a bullet to the head. It's that bad, and not even full-body massages from JS are helping.
• Speaking of JS, the swooning continues. If we're not married by the end of the year, I'll eat my hat. Or become a nun. Things are that perfect, yes they are.
  
• And speaking of him even more, we're going on a staycation this evening to the InterContinental Hotel on Michigan Avenue. The fantasy continues.
• Part-time freelance work is falling into place. This is good. The idea of having to get a real job frightens me.
  
• And I am writing a novel.
  
• With any luck, I will not have to work a real job ever again.
  
• This is good.
• It leaves much time for staycations, cuddling, and swooning.
  
• Namaste.