Das Boot
is kaput!!!
Free at last, free at last. My left foot is no longer encased in something that looks like it's from the prop department of The Terminator.
It's very strange to walk normally again, having not walked without a limp for the last 8 weeks. I keep forgetting that it doesn't hurt anymore, and am still favoring it. So I end up doing this cockamamy gait down the long hall here at the spa. I start out normal, then fall into my limp, then remember that I don't have to limp, and start to walk normal again. It's a little Chaplinesque, but I'll take it.
Dr. Hottie said while I'm free to walk bootless now, I'm to stay out of heels for a couple weeks (booo!) and I can't run for at least two or three (double boooooo!). I am allowed to "power walk" at the gym, and work my way back up, slowly, to running. No PT, as he said, "You're athletic enough that you'll do just fine on your own. But don't overdo it!" *&$%@. At least two more weeks until running. Bah. At least I'm out of the boot!
Also, yesterday was completely Britney-free. It was a struggle, but I did it. Leaps and bounds, I'm making.
I've rediscovered that "real" news is just as goofy as celebrity news, since apparently later today we (the United States, that is) are going to try to shoot down a big piece of brand new space trash that happens to be loaded down with rocket fuel. It became space trash pretty quickly after launch, when something happened to cause the computer on board to shut down. They've been unable to re-start it, thereby rendering this multi-million dollar piece of technology nothing more than the equivalent of a cigarette butt on the side of the highway. Only it's filled with incredibly toxic and dangerous rocket fuel and is rapidly falling towards, you guessed it, Earth. M read aloud the article to me last night, which said that we're using a high-tech, state-of-the-art heat-seeking missile to target a vessle that effectively has absolutely no heat signature whatsoever.
Who needs Britney Spears when we have the federal government?!
Finished the Henri Cartier-Bresson DVD last night and started on his Scrapbook. It. Is. Fantastic. Much more deeply fulfilling than paparazzi garbage. Well, they say you have to hit rock bottom before you can start to recover.
Ah, today is just such a good day. We finished our accounting homework last night for the week, and I'll study and take my weekly quiz probably tonight. Quiet night with The Bug before that, and quiet night with Henri after that (M is probably dining with colleagues tonight), and tomorrow morning I'll lace up my beloved and much-missed Asics.
Ah, bliss!
Free at last, free at last. My left foot is no longer encased in something that looks like it's from the prop department of The Terminator.
It's very strange to walk normally again, having not walked without a limp for the last 8 weeks. I keep forgetting that it doesn't hurt anymore, and am still favoring it. So I end up doing this cockamamy gait down the long hall here at the spa. I start out normal, then fall into my limp, then remember that I don't have to limp, and start to walk normal again. It's a little Chaplinesque, but I'll take it.
Dr. Hottie said while I'm free to walk bootless now, I'm to stay out of heels for a couple weeks (booo!) and I can't run for at least two or three (double boooooo!). I am allowed to "power walk" at the gym, and work my way back up, slowly, to running. No PT, as he said, "You're athletic enough that you'll do just fine on your own. But don't overdo it!" *&$%@. At least two more weeks until running. Bah. At least I'm out of the boot!
Also, yesterday was completely Britney-free. It was a struggle, but I did it. Leaps and bounds, I'm making.
I've rediscovered that "real" news is just as goofy as celebrity news, since apparently later today we (the United States, that is) are going to try to shoot down a big piece of brand new space trash that happens to be loaded down with rocket fuel. It became space trash pretty quickly after launch, when something happened to cause the computer on board to shut down. They've been unable to re-start it, thereby rendering this multi-million dollar piece of technology nothing more than the equivalent of a cigarette butt on the side of the highway. Only it's filled with incredibly toxic and dangerous rocket fuel and is rapidly falling towards, you guessed it, Earth. M read aloud the article to me last night, which said that we're using a high-tech, state-of-the-art heat-seeking missile to target a vessle that effectively has absolutely no heat signature whatsoever.
Who needs Britney Spears when we have the federal government?!
Finished the Henri Cartier-Bresson DVD last night and started on his Scrapbook. It. Is. Fantastic. Much more deeply fulfilling than paparazzi garbage. Well, they say you have to hit rock bottom before you can start to recover.
Ah, today is just such a good day. We finished our accounting homework last night for the week, and I'll study and take my weekly quiz probably tonight. Quiet night with The Bug before that, and quiet night with Henri after that (M is probably dining with colleagues tonight), and tomorrow morning I'll lace up my beloved and much-missed Asics.
Ah, bliss!
posted by Amy at 9:57 AM
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