But you guys just can't leave it alone, can you? You gotta be all "we love you, Rob, and we'd miss you." Don't you have significant others or something to love? Go cuddle with your cats and leave me be!
Okay...don't leave me be. I actually love you guys right back. (Darn me and my humanity!) In fact, just as I would on the Depression Thread on GitP, here are individual responses. And just because a response isn't addressed to you doesn't mean you shouldn't read it. There may be something of value in someone else's segment.
LouLou: "Words are more difficult than money," eh? Fine. Send money. =P
I guess what struck me hardest was the fact that I mentioned my birthday in TWO posts, and no one handed off a birthday wish. And so I thought, No one is reading this thing. I'm writing for Becky, and that's it. If I'm simply writing for my soon-to-be-fiance, then I should abandon this thing.
One has to wonder how I, of all people, left you behind. To put it as a clearer question: how does a guy who sits around all day doing nothing leave ANYONE behind? You're still doing things with your life. Me? I'm desperately hanging on to a long distance relationship in the hopes of keeping the most wonderful woman on the planet at my virtual side, and that's about it. Unless you could fighting for improved health as "doing something," to which I would argue that that still involves a lot of sitting around while I slowly heal.
Thanks for busting my chops, Lou. Oh, and Becky appreciates you slapping me in the head. She'd like to do it herself, but would feel bad. ;-)
Mikkel: Ummm...Who are you, and how did you get this number? =P
It's kind of interesting to discover a mystery follower. What's more, you're a mystery follower who got his girlfriend reading my blog as well. It almost sounds like you two have found a new soap opera to follow: "As the Rob Turns."
It's nice to know that the two of you are cheering me on. What I'd like is to actually read some of the cheering as it happens. I asked that people at least vote on my ramblings, and that happened for a couple of posts, and then there was nothing. So when I see neither comments or votes, my thought is that people aren't all that interested. Now that I know someone is rooting for me when good things happen, and DEMANDS I make good things happen...Well, the awareness that I have a cheering section means a lot to me.
Walking Target: What, pray tell, do I have in common with Neil Gaiman? And keep in mind that I'd happily accept "excellent writing style" as a perfectly viable answer. =P
The idea of you reading each post thoroughly makes be think two things. The first: Where was YOUR birthday wish? The second: Dear G-d, he's probably made notes on every typo that I've ever made! Of course, I eventually excuse the latter. These posts, after all, are all first drafts. I don't edit these anymore, so mistakes are expected.
I'm not sure if Gaiman appreciates his readers as much as I do, but I thank you for being such an avid reader.
What I mean to say is...
Yeah, that about sums up my response to your comment. It's people like you that almost make me wish that the people following my blog were morons. Had you written, "You can't stop blogging because...you just can't," it would have been easier to give it up. Instead, I receive a lucid and touching response like yours, and my heart caves in.
My best to the Pudding Goddess and your adorable Pudding Troll. =)
Valiant Turtle: Facebook? Really? While I didn't watch the episode, I could hear my housemates watching "South Park" in the living room, in which Stan is sucked into Facebook. Do you want me sucked into Facebook, VT? Is that your goal? It was hard enough for Stan, who's a cartoon, to get out. How well do you think a live, handicapped guy will fair, eh? =P
In all honesty, I've had only one motivator to join Facebook, and that's the fact that reaching my little Lizzy would be that much easier. Beyond that, I can't think of much else, although you've given me more to contemplate.
* * *
In other news, I woke to the sound of my ringing phone. As I desperately tried to figure out how to answer the danged thing, I thought that whoever it was had better be dying to wake me so early in the day. I felt completely unrested, and wanted nothing more than to sleep a few more days. HOURS! I meant "hours."
It was my pain doc's office. I'd called yesterday to make suggestions of the prescriptions that should be written for me, as the last attempt became a fiasco involving my medical insurance. The doc agreed to all of my suggestions, and I could swing by to pick up those prescriptions when I was ready.
So while I have an internal debate about trying to get off these meds, we're switching me over to 60 mg. morphine sulfate and an unknown dose of oxycodone. Here's hoping the insurance company doesn't cause me more woes over this nonsense.
As I hung up the phone, I was going to go back to sleep. I was mentally cursing the existence of anyone who'd dare to make early morning phone calls...and then realized that it was 1:14 PM.
I'm off to work on looking human, or at least fake the process. Be well, all.