I think I will enroll my two-some in some good ol' fashioned esther williams esque swim classes as soon as possible. Based on the kicks we've been seeing today, I think they may have a future in the world's creepiest olympic sport.
Today I did not get an outing at all. I did take a shower on the advice of some who've been here, done that, and got the T-shirt to prove it (plus a plethora of pics of a pretty cute duo. thanks eva :) and I found a bra to put on. It's the '64 B-movie Bra, but it's holding the original twins up for now. I may still have to resort to hiring midgets on skates. I also managed to get a load of laundry done and work out my insurance snafus.
Wow, that's so boring, it made me yawn. I already lived it once. But in somewhat related news, H rearranged all the living room furniture this weekend so that the recliner faces the TV and the front windows. Now I am truly on my way to becomeing the crazy cat lady of the block. Petey and I spent some time today staring at the fish tank and marvelling at the vast number of pedestrians that pass our front gate. I guess it was nice outside today and people felt the need to trot about on their errands. Petey thought they looked tasty and suspicious (the fish and the peds. both)
I'm actually a little surprised at how fast the day seems to go. I thought I would be more antsy, but I'm pretty happy to sit here and read blogs for a few hours, knit a little, watch a little TV and make a few phone calls. I'm sure this will end soon and I will be trying to carve my way through the plaster with a soup spoon, but for now I'm just going to be happy that I don't have to go to work.
Tomorrow I see the doctor again. The good news is that my leg is pretty leg like now. The bad news is that the doctor I'm scheduled to see tomorrow is the least sympathetic of the group. It might be that she's a woman and therefore thinks I should suck it up a little. I am inclined to agree, but I really really REALLY don't want to go back to work. I will not be showering tomorrow. or wearing makeup. I may only wear one sock. If I concentrate hard enough, perhaps I can give myself an eye twitch. That should do it.
If that doesn't work, I will tell her that Petey and I will be beginning practice sessions for our new olympic sport. It's ingenious and only slightly creepier than synchronized swimming. I'm not quite sure what to call it yet, but it incorporates my skills in dropping food out of my mouth and catching it with my shelf o' boobies and Petey's uncanny ability to lick his own ass at a moments notice. He can even do this on the kitchen counter while you are trying to spread peanut butter on your banana and precariously balance rasins atop which will only end up on your boobs anyway. It's disgusting, but you can't look away.