Went to see my Physical Therapist today. At the end of our appointment I asked him if I should plan to see him when I'm back in town in a few weeks. He indicated that it seemed like I was doing fine and probably didn't need to see him again. I could take this one of two ways:
1. My progress is so great and consistent that he really doesn't need to see me anymore. Or...
2. My incessant questions are no longer worth the exorbitant fee he charges my insurance company. "When you say 12 weeks, do you mean 12 weeks?"
I'm assuming it's the former.
So to celebrate I spent the day outside, walking back from dropping the 4Runner (Foreigner) off at the oil change place, mowing the grass, cutting down bamboo, and walking back to pick the 4Runner (Foreigner) up from the oil change place before heading to Tequilas for margaritas (again). Happy Hour comes once a day and lasts for more than an hour, kids.
Sarah leaves tomorrow and I've got a couple days of full-on bachelorhood before I head west for the summer. I'm trying to throw away or sell everything in sight that's less than very useful. The rule is if I haven't used it for it's intended purpose in the last year and/or wouldn't pack it in a moving truck headed for Colorado it goes in the pile. Liberating? Indeed. Now all I need is a bigger garbage can.
Life is so mellow here in Suburbia. Can't wait to head west. I have friends with more interesting lives than mine. They're the Coyle's. You may now replace my blog with theirs. Good on ya, Ed and Katie, can't wait to kick back on the ranch for a few days next month. Don't give that .22 back to your neighbor just yet.