The plan is to start editing the memoir today, but I hurt myself cleaning my office on Saturday, so we’ll see how much I get done. Let me tell you about my injuries. It should be entertaining. But first, a little backstory before the whole falling out of chairs thing.

I’m not a neat freak. I like organization and I have my pet issues, but if I’m the only one to do the work of cleaning and organizing a room? Things can go long periods without being tidied up or sorted. The one exception is my work space. If I’m going to use my office and desk, they absolutely cannot be cluttered. Seeing that sort of mess (or just knowing it exists, if I’m honest) powers down my left parietal lobe.

Fun Fact: Back in the days when I could work 9 to 5, I would usually stop what I was doing every day at 4:55 to clean and organize my desk for the following morning. Because chaos on my desk always translated to chaos in my mind.

Well, as you may know, I spent a large part of January fighting bronchitis. During that time the office wasn’t just neglected, it became the de facto foster home for any object displaced by Christmas decorations or otherwise existing without spatial designation. That meant if I wanted to start using my office for writing and editing again (and I did) I would have to clean first.

Things were going okay until it was time to vacuum tumbleweeds of pet hair and traces of cat litter. I became fatigued (as I am wont to do) and decided that it would be easier to sit in my office chair and scoot around while I vacuumed Cat Box Corner . I’ve done this many, many times before.

Thing is, this time I leaned a little too far forward in the chair. As my weight shifted to the front of the chair, I pushed it out from under me sending it across the room behind me. I screamed, dropped the vacuum hose, and lay supine while the Shark blew hot, dusty exhaust in my face.

Yes, that’s right. I fell out of a chair. Vacuuming.

There were three cracks on the hardwood. My tailbone, my elbow, and the back of my head. No serious damage, nothing broken. Just a couple of bruises and one of those nausea headaches brought on by a minor concussion and head-to-toe muscle tightness. All exacerbated by the fact that my brain tumor already tells my nerves to record a response of PAIN to any and all stimuli.

Good times.

Anyway, I still hurt more than usual, but I’m excited to get back to work on my untitled memoir. (I actually had a working title for it, and then found out — after Google searching potential domains — that that title was already taken, and so now I’m back to untitled again.)

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