Yargh. For the second day in a row I managed to double my step count, but today the knee gave me a twinge. I did 6,800-something steps yesterday, 7,300-something today, without really trying. Yesterday was sorting books in the garage. Today was errands, or at least it was supposed to be. One minute I'm thinking---like a normal person----"I just need to get this key copied"-----and the next thing I know I'm looking at a cart which has two HUGE sacks of potting soil in it, three bags of sunflower seeds---because you have to pay squirrel protection around here----and enough pots, plants, and seeds to recreate Versailles in my garden this year. Or at least on my front porch.
Depot my ass. They need to just call it a crack house and have done with it.
I'd like to write more but Shadow---my Grumpaluffagus, my scarred ex feral who hisses at everyone but me----has once again made me into the big spoon and is using my arm as a pillow.
Weird thing: ever since they started giving me that anxiety med that actually reduces nightmares, I have not had a single instance where I woke up gasping. Not one.
