Today's Pilates teacher couldn't keep track of the count. We did things in threes, fours, fives, sixes, etc. It kept me alert the whole class since I never knew when she'd tell us to change.
My DH is making veggie burgers and then I think we're going to go down to the Postal Museum, just because it is the least visited Smithsonian and just a short hobble across the street from Union Station. His ankle is all puffy again, and he's trying to blame it on the heat, not the fact that he played Frisbee twice this week. @@
Even a good patient would be bad moody by now. I'm a good patient in that I just want to be left alone with a stack of books and DVDs when I am sick. DH is horrible. He wants company so he can complain endlessly while refusing to do anything that might be helpful. Thankfully he is rarely sick.
oatmeal
Sounds like Sparky's DH has something in common with mine.
Sparky, sorry your DH's ankle is all hurty. I love the Postal Museum! Partly because my grandfather was a mailman yonks ago.
I just finished a very fun book, Secret Society Girl, by Diana Peterfreund. Now to actually do some chores and then it's off to a surprise birthday party. Also? It's hot. Feh.
He's trying to justify going to play Frisbee tomorrow afternoon.
My DH is a PITA patient because he wants me to entertain him the whole time. He'll ask me 100x a day, "what are you doing nowwwwwwww?" in the hope I can play cards.
With something like a twisted ankle, I'd want books to keep me company. If I'm sick and feeling yucky, I want the TV clicker.
Wow. I was tired. G'morningafternoon ev'one.
Ah, sleep good. Daniel, your tag reminds me that my son Brendon popped his head up and said Huh! when he heard that line. He doesn't watch DW, but was in the room.
My DH is a PITA patient because he wants me to entertain him the whole time.
DH is not so much looking for entertainment as sympathy and I have none. Him: my head aches Me: Did you take anything? Him: No, my head aches Me: Did you eat anything? Him: No, my head aches. Me: Do you want a cold compress? Him: No, my head aches. Me: then suffer, I have stuff to do.
And I am off for a canoe ride now with Bobby. Be gone arm flab! Guess it will probably take more than one trip...
Morning, bitches!
OK, um, AFTERNOON. Whatever. I have no idea why I couldn't get out of bed this morning, but I just wouldn't. Stayed in bed for a good 12 hours. Good grief.
But now I have coffee. And a doughnut. Hmm. Possibly not the breakfast of champions. Am still feeling oddly woozy.
Raq, is the book swap at the old place or the new one?
