Emotional shutdown. I am typing this letter on a borrowed Wordsmith. I am helping an inmate with some legal work so I am able to use the typewriter with my ribbons to type this letter.

I have been running on emotional shutdown mode for the last several weeks, and as you have noticed there has been no letters flowing your way. There were a couple that might have crossed with your last letter, but I certainly need to get my act together and start writing again.

This is not meant to be a poor me letter, part of the lack of mail is precisely an attempt on my part to not end up writing you pages of poor Pete shit. I think that is an improvement, but with little other emotional support available, it ends up taking me forever to get the energy up to write.

I had another CAT scan of my leg a week ago last Friday, and expect to see the surgeon some time in the next few days for yet another follow up. I had seen the doctor around the end of July and an in office X-ray showed that the screws were now sticking out from the site of the break. I got the impression that this was due to the bone pulling itself together, but the doctor still insisted that I keep all weight off the leg. It has now been over four months on the crutches. I will say this though, my back feels great. I even had to lengthen the crutches last week as I appear to now be standing straighter.

I was sort of psyching myself up to the fact that I must be losing weight having cut back the biweekly pint of ice cream to just a nutty buddy cone, and went from 14 bags of M&M's to 8 but alas on the scale this past Friday I am holding at 210.

Damn time for a shower before lights out.  ¶ 10:01 PM