I've been busy this past week. I wish I could say I've done actual work, but alas. My friend went and had her baby (aka my Godson -- someone is making me the Godmother of their child) and I've had to take care of the Big Brother for a few days. He's a good kid, but, well. He's two.
Anyone who knows kids knows exactly what that means. If nothing else, the experience has broken the slightly broody mood I've been in the past few years. If I can't hack two days of little/no sleep, dealing with a cranky child at 6:45 in the morning while in mild dental pain, I'm not cut out for Mommy Duty. I'm such a wuss. I think I'll keep my 7am wake up hour, though. That 6 o'clock is for the birds. And toddlers.
Sigh, moving on...I've been lazy all week. It's amazing how not eating solid food for seven full days will take it out of you, you know? So I have decided to just take the whole week off this week (no worries, I can do that) and rest, relax and completely recuperate. Although I had my follow up exam today and was told that I'm healing "better than (they're) used to seeing". Take that, mean people who thought I'd have big problems for being old! I healed up nicely and quickly -- the resident was surprised that I wasn't feeling quite so bruised today. And he says my clots are "beautiful." See, it's not just a consolation statement for the physically unattractive, it's true: everyone has different standards of beauty!
I came right home and ate the pizza I didn't get to eat at my birthday party last Sunday. It felt good. Now I want a beverage I get to drink through a straw. shudder The pleasures of non-post-recovery living!
I'll post more tomorrow. After I've slept a bit and gotten some pictures together and have two thoughts to rub together that aren't about "Oooh, solid food! I want some solid fooooood!"
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