a good day
Today was. A good day. I think that had a lot to do with only working 5 hours.
First thing this morning I had my initial physical therapy appointment for ye olde ankle. It went well. I liked the part where we iced it best. Oh, and being told that my flexibility was "excellent" was an ego-boost. So now I can exercise my foot with a big rubber band. And write the alphabet with my toes. How Bonnie Consolo of me! That chick could play PIANO with her toes. I'm still getting lots of swelling, so am supposed to ice it more. Working fewer hours helps, but I doubt that will happen on a regular basis.
Then went to the library and had tons of my reserves come in. A few mysteries, two Jessica Abel cartoon collections, a queer graphic novel, short stories, etc. I will read something other than online nonsense. . . .
Work was busy but good. The last day of a week with no boss. The big oops is that I had a vendor show up this a.m. who I had forgotten was coming. He was very nice about it, and understood why it happened. Plus it was a giant order for him, and I think I was his only call scheduled today.
J. and I went to an art opening at the Wexner tonight. It was not as fun as the last one -- the food wasn't as good, the music was canned not live, and the art. . .well, it was not my cup of tea for the most part. I enjoyed the "Bone" art by Jeff Smith -- very cool to see how it's done before print. Thanks to the library, I will now read his first book. I wanted my nephew to come with us. I feel like I am drifting from the kids, and it's sad. I'm not sure if it's their age or something else. There was another installation that had one handmade leaf for every dead american in Iraq, with the persons name printed on it. They were placed on a big, low table. It was called "Fallen" and managed to make me think of the individual and collective loss simultaneously. Last (and least) was some abstract painter. Now, I like abstract painting. But this seemed all surface, no soul. But it was good to go out, mingle, and talk with J. before coming home and collapsing in my chair with my foot propped up on a pillow.
We watched another episode of "The Riches" and "The Soup." I SO do not get "The Hills." Watching 5 second clips makes me want to take out my eye with a grapefruit spoon. And Tila Tequila! WTF, people of america!
First thing this morning I had my initial physical therapy appointment for ye olde ankle. It went well. I liked the part where we iced it best. Oh, and being told that my flexibility was "excellent" was an ego-boost. So now I can exercise my foot with a big rubber band. And write the alphabet with my toes. How Bonnie Consolo of me! That chick could play PIANO with her toes. I'm still getting lots of swelling, so am supposed to ice it more. Working fewer hours helps, but I doubt that will happen on a regular basis.
Then went to the library and had tons of my reserves come in. A few mysteries, two Jessica Abel cartoon collections, a queer graphic novel, short stories, etc. I will read something other than online nonsense. . . .
Work was busy but good. The last day of a week with no boss. The big oops is that I had a vendor show up this a.m. who I had forgotten was coming. He was very nice about it, and understood why it happened. Plus it was a giant order for him, and I think I was his only call scheduled today.
J. and I went to an art opening at the Wexner tonight. It was not as fun as the last one -- the food wasn't as good, the music was canned not live, and the art. . .well, it was not my cup of tea for the most part. I enjoyed the "Bone" art by Jeff Smith -- very cool to see how it's done before print. Thanks to the library, I will now read his first book. I wanted my nephew to come with us. I feel like I am drifting from the kids, and it's sad. I'm not sure if it's their age or something else. There was another installation that had one handmade leaf for every dead american in Iraq, with the persons name printed on it. They were placed on a big, low table. It was called "Fallen" and managed to make me think of the individual and collective loss simultaneously. Last (and least) was some abstract painter. Now, I like abstract painting. But this seemed all surface, no soul. But it was good to go out, mingle, and talk with J. before coming home and collapsing in my chair with my foot propped up on a pillow.
We watched another episode of "The Riches" and "The Soup." I SO do not get "The Hills." Watching 5 second clips makes me want to take out my eye with a grapefruit spoon. And Tila Tequila! WTF, people of america!