...when you're stuck on a chesterfield because you can't stand for very long.
The ankle is getting better--much of the midnight purple bruising is gone, leaving both sides of my foot a middling greeny-blue. The swelling has lessened, but if I push myself too far (which happens more often than I care to mention) my ankle puffs up like a Mae West. I'm still achy. I can flex my food a bit and lateral movement slowly returns.
All this means is when I get home from work, I get into my jammies and plunk myself on the chesterfield, leg elevated, laptop on the coffee table.
I've learned to type sideways while lying down.
The Fussy Eater visits regularly and makes comforting sounds and brings me nummy prezzies; last weekend he did three loads of laundry for me. The exbf makes my meals/is the minion to my "cooking by proxy" cravings and helps me with houseworky things.
Like the dishes.
Let me say this right now. The exbf is as okay as he ever was.
I didn't realize the skill and coordination levels needed to do the dishes...and not get cut...by a steaknife....in the left nostril.
I wasn't there when it happened...because I was on the aforementioned chesterfield practicing my new typing skills.
All I know is that he came out of the kitchen saying something about how the knife was safest in a waterglass because it wouldn't hurt his foot and then the knife wound up up his nose when he was doing the supper dishes.
No...it didn't make sense then either.
Oh, and if you are wondering about the violently pink bunny biscuit...it has nothing to do with this post...it's just the Easter treat our office caf gave away with their ham dinner plate. I couldn't get over the colour. It was weird...like last night.
tag: Nicoll event
Before the nonsense: 44 cups; 3 free coffees, 1 free doughnut
Now: 40 cups, 7 free coffees