(no subject)
This is that curious hour where I've "slept in," per my usual internal clock, and she's not going to be up for hour(s). I wish she'd wake up because then we can get coffee (coffee out is today's plan). Also, I want to see her! It's funny as now I tiptoe around the house to keep from waking her, while if we were at her place by now the cat would walk on her face (without waking her). Last night was dinner and theatre with friends, but I was happy to retreat home with her instead of clubbing out (I didn't want to see a band play). We hit the H STreet/Atlas arcade, and she understood better how excited I was about the ones in Cincinnati and Raleigh.
So both Prince and Michael J died because they were in religious cults that don't let them get medical treatment leading to their use of strong pain medications? Makes me less sympathetic and likely to forgive the homophobia from Prince, even while I stand back and let my friends separate the art from the creator. I'd be happy if the person who made the music I found transformational was in similar spaces, or respectable ones, but my takeaway is the experience I had was mine. There are friends and authors I may owe pieces of my current self, but it'll be a rare musician.
Everyone has headphones on. I used to listen to music really loud in my house; I'm not sure my mother should have let me. Still, to me it had to be loud music and not headphones - the fact it was actually playing made it more real.
I'm in PT and it's curious - they literally put me in traction with a mechanical device pulling on my neck to spread my vertebre. I see posture fixing a big part of the therapy, so the fact I've been practicing with the standing desk is a very good, if too late, thing. I'm not convinced they haven't missed a pulled muscle or something in the shoulder but I'm doing all I can to keep active. I'm still making a strength out of it where I can, locking in more form and enjoying the not-death post workout feeling. Today I can feel yesterday's squats yelling at me.
And yesterday we ran into the contractor in my home, that's on Sat, and the kitchen cabinets, in boxes, were in the kitchen. He said they'd be installing them tomorrow. He said he was glad to be back in there, looking forward to finally getting me in...but it took me yelling and nearly firing him to make it happen so I'm not sure I understand his emotional statements. We went over various things that are in process or need doing - he encouraged us to perhaps live there before deciding if we needed ceiling fans, but also recommended a local / non-lowes-HD shop where we went after the gym and about lost our minds on all the choices. Big black square chandelier LED light? 1950s sci-fi ceiling fan? Birdcage chandelier? Got all that.
The idea that I'll be moving and living in DC, in that house, doesn't feel real.
So both Prince and Michael J died because they were in religious cults that don't let them get medical treatment leading to their use of strong pain medications? Makes me less sympathetic and likely to forgive the homophobia from Prince, even while I stand back and let my friends separate the art from the creator. I'd be happy if the person who made the music I found transformational was in similar spaces, or respectable ones, but my takeaway is the experience I had was mine. There are friends and authors I may owe pieces of my current self, but it'll be a rare musician.
Everyone has headphones on. I used to listen to music really loud in my house; I'm not sure my mother should have let me. Still, to me it had to be loud music and not headphones - the fact it was actually playing made it more real.
I'm in PT and it's curious - they literally put me in traction with a mechanical device pulling on my neck to spread my vertebre. I see posture fixing a big part of the therapy, so the fact I've been practicing with the standing desk is a very good, if too late, thing. I'm not convinced they haven't missed a pulled muscle or something in the shoulder but I'm doing all I can to keep active. I'm still making a strength out of it where I can, locking in more form and enjoying the not-death post workout feeling. Today I can feel yesterday's squats yelling at me.
And yesterday we ran into the contractor in my home, that's on Sat, and the kitchen cabinets, in boxes, were in the kitchen. He said they'd be installing them tomorrow. He said he was glad to be back in there, looking forward to finally getting me in...but it took me yelling and nearly firing him to make it happen so I'm not sure I understand his emotional statements. We went over various things that are in process or need doing - he encouraged us to perhaps live there before deciding if we needed ceiling fans, but also recommended a local / non-lowes-HD shop where we went after the gym and about lost our minds on all the choices. Big black square chandelier LED light? 1950s sci-fi ceiling fan? Birdcage chandelier? Got all that.
The idea that I'll be moving and living in DC, in that house, doesn't feel real.