August 27, 2003
Unable to even contemplate typing in the hunt and peck method that I must now resort to, I stare out the train window and watched the landscape pass by. The sun rises late enough now that from my window I can see the pink edges of sunrise becoming a Maxfield Parrish morning over the South Shore. Fighting with the split in the morning is especially tiring, but I've little choice in the matter. The splint now owns my life, which is an interesting change from work owning my life. Still, I would rather own my own life free and clear.