No, I'm not dead. I did a stint in rehab, where I met Dakota Fanning, but now I'm back. Sort of.
I've just been busy. I wish I could say that it was with something exciting, but alas. We had houseguests for a couple of weeks, which meant two more kids in the house as usual, and it was fun, but four kids six and under is a lot. We survived. The hardest part was the car trips to and from LA, which ... not fun with that many kids.
Since we've been back from LA (motto: it's smogtastic!) , delivering our houseguests back home, we've just been home. The kids have had kids camp at the gym almost every day, which gives me two hours a day to run/work out/swim, stuff I like to pretend I lopve to do vbut which I secretly hate. And yes, I look fantastic, thanks for asking. Shut up, Phil. I know you're still the pretty one.
Besides that, I've been writing a lot. I've been mostly meeting my goal of laying down 2000 words a day on the book, so the progress feels nice, even though I think this book is trying to kill me. I don't blame it, by the way, it's not a happy little story.
A post is coming soon entitled "What I learned on my summer vacation." So look for that.
In short, I am not dead, I have been working. And there's nothing to report, really. And despite all my gym time, my abs remain in witness protection.
That is all.