A small amount of time has passed since I last posted.
I suppose I should feel bad, but to be honest I'm not sure how much I feel of anything anymore. Let's get the facts out of the way:
a) Mrs RS is currently in remission
b) Mrs RS still has an unhealed leg wound from last year that will 'most likely never heal'. She undergoes extremely major surgery the week after next. This will either finally sort it or cripple her for life.
c) Mrs RS is still in the US and I am not.
I'd love to say that I have a shite life or that woe is indeed me, but that's bollocks. Countless people have worse lives than me. Countless.
But in contempory circles? Well, then the last 18 months has been possibly the most fraught and stressful of my life - and that's a poor refelction of what Mrs RS has had/has to go through. I am however her rock, her anchor to a place and life that isn't trying to kill her, and therefore I bear the brunt of a lot of it. My life is centred around supporting her because she is a part of me, and I will not let that change. This has left little of me over to engage with the rest of life. It has not just been this place that has lacked my attention.
I run a short fuse nowadays, which for those that have known me for a long time is unprecedented. I even managed to be formally warned for 'shrugging in an offensive manner' at work. No, that isn't a joke either. Work has slowly transformed from a farce to the early stages of the Fourth Reich and the main reason I stick around is not just the money, it's also the money.
I have friends at the coalface who keep me going, assisted for the last couple of months by beer (which tends to stop me stabbing people), but basically this entirely depressing update is to say:
1) I'm not dead
2) Mrs RS is not dead
Beyond that, the world is our oyster.