I Think I Need More Ginseng

First off: how boring are blogs that start with:

"Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I couldn't think of anything to say..."

Well, that's sort of the case here. Amidst a conversation with one of my roommates this morning, I had the smallest little thought timidly tap on the back of my mind:

"Um, Justin?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You... you know what Ben's talking about right now?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, I was thinking... if you think it's a good idea... I have this thought. You could, y'know... expound on it and turn it into a pretty good blog."

"Yeah, totally. Remember it for me, okay?"

"Um, yeah. Sure. But, y'know... that normally doesn't work..."

"That's what she said! Haha! What normally doesn't work?"

"Ha. Good one. Um, remembering little thoughts like this one. They tend to... disappear. Almost as soon as you're done focusing on them."

"No, no. This one's good. I'll totally use it. As soon as we're done talking here. Oh, and I have to answer some emails from work. But, then! Then I promise I'll sit down and write it out. I really like this idea."

And, I did really like that idea. But, then I turned back to my conversation and the little thought dropped his shoulders, hung his head, turned and walked out the backdoor.

The little jerk left the door open, too. 'Cause just a few minutes ago a breeze made me shiver and when I went to close the door I realized that I didn't leave it open. So, now I'm left here scratching my head wondering...

...was it something about my first PT appointment this morning? Something about being on the road to recovery?

... was it something about my surgery? I haven't sat down to write since the hour before leaving for the hospital.

...was it that I hadn't written since the surgery? Was it about the complete lack of productivity that this week has been?

...did it have something to do with LOST? That, along with Dexter and Bioshock and Netflix, is is the reason more than my leg has atrophied over the last two weeks.

...was it about the mandate coming down that we have to move out of this house? No set date or timeframe... but as soon as someone buys it out from under us.

...did it have something to do with realizing how much grace I've received, particularly from my housemates, since my surgery? They have been so good to me.

I don't remember. One thing's for certain: I am growing quickly tired of being an invalid.