Terribly Terribly Late…

I actually started this post on Tuesday, because on Wednesday Boyo went in for another surgery to correct an undescended testicle. It’s a fairly common issue, especially among preemies, and the surgery to fix it is minimally invasive. We had actually tried to get the surgery scheduled at the same time as his ear tubes procedure, but we couldn’t schedule the appointment with the urologist in time. Plus it turns out that the ENT and Urologist work out of entirely different hospitals – the ENT prefers St Jude’s, while the Urologist is associated with CHOC.

Anywho, I had planned to post on Tuesday night, but there was so much running around and cleaning that day that posting never happened. Then we had to be up so early for the surgery, plus we were so nervous, that sleep was damn near impossible. And then by the time everything was over with we were so exhausted that all we did was lounge around and watch TV.

So here I am, finishing this up on Thursday instead. Well, technically Friday now.

Man, I really am late this time.

I have been able to get some writing done despite the chaos of the work week. It’s mainly been on projects that will be published under my pen name – though I am leaning more and more to just publishing it under my name – and it’s been mostly editing but still, it’s something.

Anywho, since Wednesday  was the Ninth of March here are 12 sentence (3+9=12) from the continuing story of Hobbie and Anagha. When last we saw her, Anagha had just landed on board the Errant Venture, which is Booster Terrik’s personal Star Destroyer. To her surprise, Hobbie was no where to be found. Instead Jedi Master Trista Fatin was waiting for her.

Anagha stepped off the ramp and onto the busy deck of the shuttle bay. “If you’re going to scold me, be gentle – I already got an earful from Hobbie.”

“I imagine it was a bit more than just an earful,” Trista turned to follow her deeper into the bowels of the ship. “Considering how questionable your decision making skills have been lately.”

“Here we go again,” She rolled her eyes. Crash one x-wing and suddenly everyone was coming out of the woodwork to point fingers. She stepped into a lift and punched a button that would take her to the level the pilot quarters were located on. “Yes, chasing after the Vong was a bad idea. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s not just that – it’s this whole mission! I told you from the beginning that no good would come of it.”

 

To read more WIPpet Wednesday posts, go here.

 

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