The last week and a half has been fairly uneventful, thus no posts. I got to take a week of vacation which was lovely - to have time with the children, go to the MFA, make a ton of cookies, wrap their presents long in advance, send poetry out ... the list goes on. It's only the second time in my working life that I've been able to do it, as time off in December when in retail is, of course, not possible. I know the kids have appreciated the time.
Tonight marked one of my few remaining PT visits. Not because I'm all better, but because that's what is covered by insurance ... and to be honest, they might not all be covered anyway. I'll find out soon enough. When I go, I wear yoga pants or sweatpants so I can move around more easily. Thankfully, I double checked the crotch in the pair I almost put on before I left the house. I caught the huge hole which would have put the therapist and I on a whole new level of intimacy. I've also been a bit gassy all day which I mention not to gross you out, but to paint a picture of my time in therapy. Imagine my wonderful physical therapist stretching me this way and that, admonishing me to relax in order to work out a particular muscle kink ... and I couldn't because I was holding in a massive fart. I really like this woman. I did not want to fart on her. Just outside the office door in the empty hallway was an entirely different story.