Back at work.
Slowly building up my hours.
It's lovely to see colleagues but the business of being sick has soured my relationship with management.
I need to end my affiliation with the university.
It's a long and drawn-out goodbye.
I get it, you know:
You can't keep betting on the cripple horse (and I happen to be the cripple horse).
But it's nasty now, and I don't want that.
Rehab continues too.
I seem to be making strides in terms of physical strength.
The boys are back at school.
Son#1 ran away from school again today, and I stood half-in, half-out of my unflattering bathing suit, ready for rehab when the teacher called.
He was hiding in our garden after a fight with Davy, a low-life Red Bull-swigging skivvy who wanted to beat up Son#1 (whom I am certain wasn't innocent either).
Son#2 went to hospital twice on Sunday for severe asthma, and I kept the heavy breather home on Monday, just to be sure (which started nastiness from my boss - I am supposed to leave my 8 year old with a non-existent stranger with severe asthma because by God I need to work my hours at work forgodssakes not with sick child at home!!).
Son#3 is doing gifted things for gifted kids at school, new teacher and no more peeing in his pants 8 million times a day.
You can't stop progress.