The week is over (let's get to next week)

What a host of friends.

Gosh, I can't thank them enough for the phone calls, e-mails, well wishes, cards, and comments. I even heard from a former professor at UT. Can you believe it?

I am still sore, tire easily and can't move around that great; but I'm getting better. Resting quite a bit and drinking water like it's going out of style.

I still have some stones up in there (right side), but we'll deal with that later. Go back to the doc at the end of the month. I'm starting to feel like there are still stones in the left side (one they operated on), too --- same pain as before --- but I really hope it's just soreness.

Main thing is I can't wait to get back to work. A week without words is like a swim at the beach without the salt water.

Still, there is reason for excitement.

Things at work are popping. We have some projects on the horizon I can't wait to begin. I also just miss the gentle routines of the day, the laughter from the newsroom, the feel of the place. I'm usually the target of all the harassment --- and I wouldn't have any other way. God, I love those folks.

After surgery, I did manage to read a great, gossipy book on Sinatra. Lots of fun. Now I'm plowing through "In Cold Blood" by Truman Capote. It, and a conversation with co-worker Larry Van Guilder, has given me a sterling new slant on an old project. I can't wait to get better so I can spend weekends working on that, too. I'll tell you more about it later.

Sorry I missed Jenny's trip to Knoxville. Definitely next time, Jen. Good luck on the mission trip!

That's enough for today. Thank you to all who cared about me these last two weeks.

Only in the wonderful, horrible irony that is the journey of life can you hear from complete strangers during an illness and not hear a peep from good friends.

Don't think I'm complaining for one minute, though. No, sir. Gaining insight into a human being's actions is the writer's greatest tool.

I love 'em all anyway. Life's too short to get mad.