W through Z is for Finishing the Race

I did the A-to-Z Blog Challenge.

And failed.

It wasn't a miserable failure. I think an accurate description would be that I tripped at the finish line.

But, like all true competitors, I've come back tonight to finish the race.

I stumbled at W, so tonight is for W through Z.

W is for Why?

Why did I stumble a the finish line of the A-to-Z Blog Challenge?

Quite simply, I came down with a nasty bug on Tuesday last week. I spiked a fever, my throat felt like it was on fire, my head pounded.

Thankfully, I did not require any sort of X-Rays.

It's not like I'm afraid of having x-rays. I've had a lot of the over the years.

I broke my wrist in second grade when I was jumping rope and stumbled over a kickball. (That took talent.)

I caught pneumonia in junior high and had to have chest x-rays.

I broke three bones in my foot in 2000 while playing Barracuda on stage with my first cover band. It was Halloween. My husband -- a guitarist -- had to drive me to the ER dressed in drag. The radiologist happened to be the drummer's sister-in-law. She refused to acknowledge she knew us.

Good times. Good times.

I also had an x-ray last year to help determine why I kept walking like a gimp. Turns out I tore my calf muscle two years earlier, and it was straining my Achilles tendon.

YOU wouldn't believe how bad that hurts when it's overused.

And speaking of you, I want to thank all of YOU who click my links, like my page and read my posts. I especially want to express gratitude to YOU who have bought a copy of my book and read it. It means the world to me.

THANK YOU.

And finally, today is also for Z, and Z is for ZERO, which is the number of cares that I give about things that don't matter.

So I'll exit the 2016 A-to-Z Blog Challenge with this bit of advice that I believe originally came from George Carlin that fits right in with my ZERO:

"Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things."

Catch you on the flip side.

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Kathryn Harris is an award-winning journalist, professional whiner and author of the contemporary not-nearly-enough-smut-for-today's-horndog-readers novel "The Long Road to Heaven."