(no subject)

I am at the airport! I got the full on "Hey, are you a terrorist?" treatment because I physically could not take my shoe off while standing up, and couldn't take my boot off at all. They swabbed me and wanded me and patted me down (kinky!) and searched my bag (Snickers bar: licit, bottle of water: illicit).

But I have a blue preboard pass, so that'll be interesting. It was...kind of absurdly easy to get one; I just said "I have a broken le -- " and they flung the blue slip at me. Pretty sweet.

I should be in Chicago by ten local or a little after; I'll post when I'm safely on the shuttle bound for home. Stay safe, kids....

(no subject)

Safe in Chicago, if exhausted and cranky and in pain. Sat next to horrible woman whose grandchild kept kicking my cast till I kicked her back.

Now I'm just waiting for my luggage to show up so I can go home. But I am here at least!

(no subject)

I am safely home!

*collapses*

I'm giving myself half an hour to rest, then I have to pack up everything I'm taking to R's and head on over there. I wasn't sure I'd need to...and then I tried to climb three flights of stairs in a boot. Not so much with the happening for a while.

I made a list of things I'd need to take. Clothing, toiletries...AND A CHEESE GRATER.

They are vital!

(no subject)

I'm at r's place.

R isn't here and his power is out.

Do I get to cry now?

(no subject)

Okay, I'm home again.

I don't know where R is (those of you reading on a mirror -- previous phone post here). I called and left a message, but I haven't had a response. He obviously knew his power was out, since there were flashlights everywhere. The place is a mess, but that's not unusual. I checked his breakers and they're all kosher; I went down to the basement and checked the main breaker, and noticed that there's a huge red X over his unit's meter.

I think maybe he's had his power switched off? He's not exactly good at paying bills in a timely fashion. Mum's livid but I mean...if my power went out I wouldn't be thinking of anything but getting it fixed either.

Anyway, I'm home and it's just as well, since all my stuff is here and I'll sleep better in my own bed. I'm just going to have to cope with the stairs. It's not so bad -- or I hope it won't be, when I'm not hauling a suitcase up and down them. I have an orthopedics appointment on Monday, a chiropractor's appointment the following week (earliest they could get me in) and I've arranged for grocery delivery. Work knows I'll be in tomorrow. I think all my bases are covered.

I THINK IT'S TIME FOR PAINKILLERS AND TAKE-AWAY.

Hub Sweet Hub

ALL RIGHT, HE'S HOME, STOP PACING FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

The flu turned out to be nothing at all. Unfortunately the veterinarians did notice that part of Max's issues stemmed from him being, well, an intact male beagle. In a totally unplanned and surprising move, they gave him the snip.



I know! It's hard to believe! I'm sure I'm outraged. Look at my dismay. Just look.

He's still a bit woozy so he's watching musicals with Jack on the sofa. Jack himself may be a bit woozy from nerves.

But it's okay, because I made sure that just in case the veterinarians did mistakenly chop his balls off, they were aware that he wanted prosthetic replacements. So he probably doesn't even know anything's missing and this way he won't piss on or hump everything he encounters.

If only we could fix Hart so easily...