I haven't been to work in 7 days, not since breaking my collarbone. I've been working from home and now with the holiday weekend I'll be off another five days. Going back will be hard. I hate work. I hate this job less than most but it's still a meaningless way to kill the majority of one's waking hours. I pledge to free myself from employment in the next few months. I can freelance write and doing promotions so long as I find a health plan that I can afford. Until that goal is accomplished I'll continue to sit at the desk, answering the phone, ordering the concrete tile, dispatching the trucks and practicing the fine art of finding life amidst the gossip and power struggles that make up most of the work day.
It's tough having all this time but not being able to do much writing. My accident has me typing with one hand and my typing never quite kept up with my flow of ideas as it was.
I've begun keeping a dream log. There are so many strong images in my dreams, many of which do not hit full strength until days later.