I am pain-suffused this morning.
There are grey hairs (!!) to colour away.
Laundry and groceries, a life to organize for loved ones in the Nether Lands while the husband and I are in Brindisi this weekend.
It sounds like fun but I'm not looking forward to the travel-bit.
But plonk me down on a chair with Limoncello in hand and I'll be a-okay.
In a while, I'll try to put the eye patch on Son#2 again.
I expect ranting and raving.
One keeps doing things, regardless of pain because one wouldn't have any kind of life otherwise.
Pain is a snake, and I slither along with it on its back.
There are flowers on the pear tree and sunny, blue skies all around.
Today will be o.k.
Then I got a letter from the university where I teach, stating that they expect improvement only in the looooong term.
A stubborn part of my disordered personality shouts
'I'll be the judge of that!'
But they're probably correct, and that miffs me no end.
Flyyyy, fly awaaaaay.
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