I'm Back, and Here's Some Free Advice

Keep Your Pants On

Like Atlas, Karyn has been holding the entire world of Substack on her shoulders while I’ve been sick and I truly appreciate her efforts. It’s been two weeks and I’m still not 100%, but at least I stopped being contagious and can leave the house. If I don’t get in at least one more poolside margarita before the summer is over, something very bad is going to happen.

A word about Covid? NOT A FAN. (And this is after five vaccinations.) Apparently people aren’t losing their senses of taste and smell anymore, except in rare circumstances. However, I must have had an old-school, retro, throw-back version, because I haven’t really gotten either sense back yet. In that respect, it’s been a better appetite killer than the Wegovy I’ve had on backorder for two months. I couldn’t have found a more effective diet leading up to my friend’s wedding later this month and I’m down a dress size. My ankles are now downright delicate. So that’s a plus.

Me, every time I leave/return to the house for the rest of the year.

I discovered that when I’m sick/injured, the last thing I want is anyone reaching out. I don’t want calls, I don’t want notes, I don’t want texts, I don’t want treats. I definitely don’t want to give updates or have a discussion on my progress. I want zero attention paid. My motto is “just let me die alone in the woods,” which Fletch thinks is weird, as he would like hot whiskey and warm hugs…