| by the numbers |
[26 May 2009|08:04pm] |
Courtesy of some scheduling changes at work, I had a four-day weekend.
During these 4 days, I:- Ran 14 miles (but not all at once)
- Biked 40 miles (mostly all at once)
- Hiked 3.5 miles
- Went to the grocery store 3 times
- Took 6 showers
- Took at least 4 naps
All in all, I'm feeling pretty good about it.
But back to work tomorrow. Boo.
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| out of practice |
[18 May 2009|08:51pm] |
Once again, I have become quite lazy with this thing. I occasionally find myself thinking of witty or interesting things to write about on here but then either forget or decide that it actually isn't that interesting. However, in the pursuit of getting back into the habit, I have a brief anecdote:
This year, I am gardening in containers on my back steps. I am growing cucumbers, eggplants, string beans, peppers, oregano, and catnip. Ambitious? Probably. Most of the seedlings have only been outside for a few weeks, so nothing much is going on yet. Except the catnip. The catnip is growing out of control. I find this amusing on a number of fronts. First off, the only thing that is proliferating is the only thing I cannot eat (well, I suppose I can eat it, I just don't want to). Secondly, it is fitting that the reason I am container-gardening outside is that the cats have made it virtually impossible to harbor any living organisms in this apartment (see Exhibit A, my destroyed fern). Now that I have decided to be a nice kittenmommy and grow them some tasty kittyweed outside, I could actually use them nibbling on it to trim it back. I need to keep reminding myself that they would actually destroy the whole plant (and my apartment) in the process.
In any event, Dinopie and Sprocketdocket get nightly doses of premium fresh catnip, served on a cutting board in the middle of my floor. They are living the life.
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| some random, poorly developed thoughts |
[15 Apr 2009|09:26pm] |
I don't like the new DMB song. I wish I did, but it is bad. This is enormously upsetting.
The cat likes to sleep in my underwear drawer when I'm not looking. Right now she is licking my foot because she thinks it is her tail.
Riding a bike to work on a rainy day is inadvisable. Where is the warm?
Oh, and I decided to go to Temple (for free!!). But most of you already knew that... My b.
Yep. That is all.
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| wahoo! |
[14 Mar 2009|02:12pm] |
Oh word, I got into Temple's doctoral prograaaaaam!
Since we last spoke, I have received rejection letters from both Hopkins and UMD (so much for lowering my cost of living by moving to Baltimore...), but Philly pulled through for me today. And for those of you not paying attention, that brings the tally to 1-2-2 (PhD-master's-neither). I called my mom a little while ago, and I swear she started to cry. Which then made me cry, naturally. Anyway, it is a huge relief after all the (very realistic) gloom and doom everyone is hearing about getting into grad school these days.
Anyhoo, the Temple envelope came with an acceptance letter, matriculation form, and a first year course list, but no mention of money. Generally speaking, PhD students receive waived tuition and a stipend in exchange for slave labor assistantships. Temple's website reads:
Students admitted to the doctoral program, if they apply for aid, will be considered for teaching assistantships, research assistantships, academic internships or readerships, each of which carries a stipend plus waiver of tuition and most fees.
Right. Ok, that's normal. But did I apply for financial aid? I mean, I know I checked "OMG PLEASE CONSIDER ME FOR TA POSITIONS" on all of my applications, and I sent in a FAFSA, but it seems as though there may have been an additional form...? Except I know I filed a complete application. I put a ton of work into getting complete applications put together for each school. But now I am worried that I didn't, and I don't want to email the department to ask about it if I am going to get a response that says something to the effect of "You didn't apply for aid, you dummie. It's gonna cost $467,239.23 to go to school here." Because, of course, the reason I am pushing for a doctoral program rather than a master's is cuz I dunwanna/cannots pay for its.
In any event, I do realize that this spazzing is my mind's own perverse way of not letting me be happy about good news. But, like, ok. Blah! Someone tell me to stop being stupid. Kthxbye.
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| don't worry, I still love paying taxes. |
[01 Mar 2009|02:21pm] |
Ways I have spent the last 36 hours:
4 hours - Filing MA income taxes. I'm not done yet.
2.5 hours - Filing DC income taxes, which is done now.
Length of time to complete Federal 1040A - About an hour a week or so ago.
So let's recap. In the calendar year 2008, I lived in the great Commonwealth of Massachusetts for 8 months and earned approximately piddlystump working various part-time jobs. Then I moved to DC and got a "real job," which, for 4 months of 2008, paid me a tad bit more than piddlystump. According to the federal government, I am kind of poor. I don't have a lot of different assets, but I have an hourly job and student loans, so I end up getting a lot of my taxes back. Not going to lie, it's nice. But it sure got complicated this year. Neither MA nor DC let you file your taxes online if you were a part-year resident*, so I got to do mine by hand. Now, you probably won't meet many people who love filling out forms as much as me. This falls into the "weird clerical chores" that I like doing, which includes things like alphabetizing, organizing other people's stuff (or rather, anything but my own life), etc. But by the 3rd hour of Massachusetts, I was going to kill someone. And it isn't even done yet. I asked Hank to double check it because I am convinced I didn't do it right.
Anyway, DC's forms were somewhat better, but not by much. I still had to do them twice before I got it right. Between all of the separate schedules and the incessant scrolling through the pdf between instructions, calculation tables, and actual forms, I felt like I needed three 20-inch monitors to keep everything straight. Granted, it probably would have been easier if I had bothered to get paper copies of all of this crap rather than printing it out from the downloaded pdf, but still. It angered me.
To make matters more annoying, I had to go out a buy a new printer cartridge so that I could continue to print out additional copies of everything that I kept messing up. Meanwhile, as we speak, Sprocket is having a fantastic time digging through the torn-up copies I have thrown on the floor next to my desk.
In the end, I am going to get a decent refund from MA, DC and the federal government, but I certainly put enough work into it. Considering where I am currently living, I suppose it is rather noble to even be filing income taxes. And no, I did not use Turbotax.
*Damn it, moving! I have had four jobs in 12 months in two different places. The part-year resident calculations are on par with going to dinner with 3 friends, and splitting the bill by number of grams of food consumed rather than items ordered. If your college experience was like mine, you and those three friends were all honors students and STILL spent 30 minutes splitting up the bill.
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| and the grad school quest continues... |
[10 Feb 2009|06:17pm] |
So Grad School Applying Process: Part II is in full swing apparently. I got a letter from BU the other day, which I was sure was going to be like "Hi. We got your application. Here is an ID number. Ok. Bye" but it turns out that they have started making decisions already. Aaaand I didn't get into their PhD program. I was accepted into their master's program. But that comes without financial aid.
I realize that this is premature seeing as I have heard back from 1 of 10 of the schools I applied to, but right now I do not want to hold out for a PhD spot and take another year off to apply again next year. If I do not get accepted into any of the PhD programs (which assumes that at least some of them will want me for their master's) that leaves me with options for my master's. Expensive options that I have no idea how to pay for, but options.
So those are my inconclusive, somewhat coherent thoughts on the matter.
Stay tuned.
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| in which i become cheeseball about the inauguration |
[21 Jan 2009|10:14pm] |
Yesterday Hank and I went to the Mall with what they are saying was close to 2 million other people. Somehow we made it home in one piece, with all our fingers and toes, and a couple of awesome buttons to boot.
The city was (and still is) as crazy as you have seen in on television. The District Police were out in full force, the National Guard was directing traffic, the Metros were jammed, and traffic is still a mess. But the energy and excitement was incredible. Despite the fact that I work two blocks north of the White House, I feel like I didn't really notice all of the preparation until this past weekend, or at least didn't notice anything other than the traffic. But as soon as I started to see all the people who came into town for this, I realized how much of a big deal it was for me, too. I went down to the Mall after work on Inauguration Eve to see the crowds and to find a perfect button to wear to the ceremony. There were SO many people down there doing the same thing as me and just taking it all in. In an eerie glow cast by the jumbotrons. In the freezing cold.
Anyway, the trek back to the Mall the next morning was a tough one. Lots of walking (from 4th St. down to 18th St. and down around the White House to get to the Mall) and crowding and being pushed through inaugural security's enigmatic pedestrian network, but eventually we ended up somewhere north of the Washington Monument. We had a decent view of a jumbotron and the massive sea of people around us, but that was pretty much it. It didn't matter though, by the time everything got started, you just needed to be able to hear the PA.
The ceremony itself was wonderful. Once they got through the parade of who's who, the timing was pretty fluid, or at least it ran fast enough to keep the attention of two million cold, on-their-feet attendees. The invocation was lovely and mostly appropriate (way to not make me mad again, Dr. Warren...), and the music was good, though I wish the Mall's sound system had done it better justice. And then there was the Address. The Address blew me away.
Perhaps I'm not old enough to have a good sense of this, but what has happened to the orators in this country? When did it become unnecessary for leaders to capture the attention, enthusiasm, and sense of purpose from his or her followers? (I cannot imagine that his urgency and conviction was lost on the television either). Judging from the number of cheers, affirmations and Amens coming from the crowd around me, President Obama has catalyzed a kind of cooperation and inclusion in politics that I have never known. His speech was eloquent, concise, and purposeful, and the delivery convinced me again that we will be able to make something from this mess. We are one day in now, and so far I like what I have seen.
Anyway, I took a lot of photos throughout the day, but most of them were terrible because of my 1) inability to deal with ISO on the fly, 2) inability to take decent photographs while walking or moving and 3) inability to be taller. However, I put together a collage of some of the better ones on my Flickr, if you are so inclined.
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| 2009. |
[01 Jan 2009|11:52pm] |
Here is my year-end/beginning review (I promise it isn't all melodramatic. Really.):
I will not start by saying that 2008 went by too quickly. Without enumerating all the difficult things that have happened over the last year, they have taught me some important lessons about how I cope with stress. I have never had a year in which I have had to make so many important decisions. The more painful ones have have been made after I finally admitted to the fact that earlier poor decisions were having a hugely negative impact on my life. I had picked a bad living situation, a bad job, a bad way to handle my own mental health, and per usual, I set my desire to get (or make) things right against my own happiness. So I learned about self-preservation. And when to make selfish decisions. In the future when I am confronted with parts of my life which are making me unhappy, if I can identify and change them faster, and without as much guilt, I will have made enormous strides.
The past year came with happy important decisions as well. I am living in a new city, with a new job, and I'm doing something completely different with my life. I live with someone whom I love and trust and am incredibly comfortable with. I feel like I am finally in a real, healthy, adult relationship. Had you asked me two years ago where I would be, I would have never guessed that I would be so happy. And we have kittens now. The pains in my ass lights of my life. As someone who has never had a pet with more personality than Noodle (rest his hamster soul), I am constantly amazed by how much I can love such little furry creatures (and the big furry boy-creature, too).
And then there is school, or a lack thereof. This is the first length of time in say, 18 years, that I have spent out of school. I would like to be able to say that I have read tons of books and taken up hobbies that fell by the wayside while I was in college, but that didn't really happen. Regardless, my year off had simultaneously given me the breather I needed while solidifying my certainty that I belong in academia. The second round of grad school applications has not been a walk in the park, nor will be the waiting period until acceptance letters are sent out, but I am much more confident and excited by the prospect of returning to school in the fall than I was a year ago.
Generally speaking, I am not much for resolutions. I think that January 1st is a fairly arbitrary day to make big life decisions. However, I do think that it is a good opportunity for reflection. The past four or five months have not been stressless, but I feel as though I am handling it better than would have been possible, or even thinkable, a year ago. I think that my body feels it, too. I still get tense shoulders, but I have lost weight, my skin is clearer, and I feel healthier without making any big changes to my life beyond taking better care of my emotional health. And If I can hope for one thing for the coming year, it is that I can feel this good about myself, my life, and my progress this time next year.
So that is that. I hope all of you have a safe, healthy, and happy new year!
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| dear world |
[27 Aug 2008|07:27pm] |
Hi there.
So... I'm moving to Washington DC on Friday. Crazypants, I know. However, you and my parents both will be relieved to know that I have an apartment and a job down there. The apartment is a cute little 1-bedroom in northeast DC. It is on the second floor and comes complete with a washer-dryer and a soon-to-be-adopted/kidnapped-by-me dog that lives downstairs. The job is at a small bookstore that specializes in travel guides, maps, atlases, globes, and other travel-y things. It's the kind of job that makes me wish I hadn't thrown away that 3'x4' map of Maine because I can foresee arguing with coworkers over who is the biggest map-nerd. Or maybe that is just what I hope will happen...
In any event, I am mostly excited about the move. Obviously I am sad to leave Boston and my Bostonian friends behind, but it is time for a change of scenery. This city has been good to me, and I will not rule out returning here someday. But right now I have the opportunity to do something completely different for a year, and I am grabbing it by the horns. Or by the UHaul's steering wheel. You know. Whatever.
So that's the life-plan. If you find yourself in the greater DC area, track me down. I will (in theory) have a sofa by then and a kitten to play with. More on that later.
Cheerio!
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| well this blows |
[21 Jul 2008|02:35am] |
So... at some point on Friday or Saturday, I contracted mild food poisoning or some other sort of miscreant stomach bug. I will spare you the details of its plot to kill me (think Huguenots, but with less defenestration*), but needless to say, I am miserable. As long as I only eat very small quantities of beige food, I am good, minus the whole "oh god I need to nap all the time" thing. Or the "I wake up at 3AM starving thing." Really, this has got to stop. But in the mean time, someone should make me some toast.
Hi, I have a BA in History. My deepest apologies:
* As a side note, while looking up the Edict of Nantes, just to make sure I wasn't being a complete European History idiot, I came across a French scare tactic called dragonnades. Don't worry about the history garbage. The point is that the French government directed super douchebaggily-annoying soldiers to go camp out in Protestant houses to make the families switch to Catholicism. Good plan. Great plan. Also amusing: dragoons.
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| what a quandary |
[30 Jun 2008|08:58pm] |
Last Friday I had my hip surgery. All went well, though they did find a torn ligament in addition to the torn cartilage (who knew!). I have been largely impressed by the recovery time: the pain has been manageable, and I am able to move around quite a bit, although I am severely hampered by the goddamn crutches. I am allowed to bear partial weight on the bad leg, meaning I can put my foot down when I walk with crutches, but my arms are still screamingly sore.
As a result of feeling pretty good, I am tremendously bored and have little to no desire to stay in bed all day, despite the blissful nap-outs that the Vicodin has afforded me. I am looking at another week and a half on the crutches, and the thought makes me pretty much want to die. I tried an outing to the drug store yesterday and it exhausted me. The hip felt fine, but my arms cannot stand the crutches. Thus, I looking at another week and a half spent mostly in the apartment.
I have a gazillion movies, I have my Netflix-ed West Wing, I have the internet at my disposal, I have work I can be doing, I have GREs to study for, I have for-fun reading to do... but I am so stupidly bored.
Does anyone have any advice for me on how to be a more content invalid?
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| four morning shifts in a row |
[26 May 2008|11:54am] |
Day 3:
Business is slow. The city cleared out for the holiday.
Boss took day off. Fortunate, because of earlier cookie holocaust. Many casualties. It got better.
Invented an espresso beverage. Called the Srobeyccino. Or the Macchiaccino. One part espresso (2 shots), 3-4 parts foamed milk (the rest of a giant mug), dusting of cocoa. Note: avoid cocoa inhalation.
92 minutes left in shift.
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| 22. |
[13 May 2008|07:02pm] |
Dear World,
Today I turned 22. I had a fantastically cholesterolled breakfast followed by flying kites in the park. Then I took a fantastic mid-afternoon nap, and then went to buy shoes that I probably (read: certainly) do not need. When I came home, my awesome boyfriend was making a delicious dinner. And he made a cupcake cake. And I broke open the bottle of wine that I brought back from Italy two years ago.
Stupendous.
I think 22 just trumped 21.
Hooray!
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|
[28 Apr 2008|07:46pm] |
Well, ok. Here is a post. I am in a remarkably good mood right now, so I figure that now is a great time to explain what is going on in my life.
So let's recap in five parts:
- The New Apartment is pretty much the best thing ever. It has taken a lot of creative space management, but it is fantastic. My favorite parts? The magnetic knife rack on my fridge, my Italian curtain hanging above my bed, my tiny pink bathroom, and the daffodils that my mother brought for me. In terms of mental health, living here has done wonders. I really had no concept of how bad things were in the old apartment until I finally got out of it. In other news, Hank is coming up to Boston for the summer, and I could not be more excited. No more airplanes. Finally.
- My Current Employment started (finally) about three weeks ago. I work at a patisserie and coffee shop in the South End. I am essentially a barista and I love it. I sound like a Starbucks ad, but I really enjoy making a really good latte or cappuccino for someone. I never realized how difficult it is to make a fantastic skim cappuccino (my drink of choice), but I take great pride in being able to now. I also purchased a bike for commuting. The freedom of not having to depend on the MBTA makes me so incredibly happy. Especially when you leave for work at 6AM.
- My Hip, which has been an ongoing minor issue since January (or two years ago, depending on how you look at it), has become more of a less-minor issue. I have a labral (cartilage) tear in my left hip that will need to be operated on later this summer. The surgery is arthroscopic and the recovery will not be too bad, but it still kind of blows. However, courtesy of Northeastern's health center, which was incredibly efficient and proactive for once, I am seeing the best sports medicine hip doctor in Boston to do the surgery. Stay tuned for that one.
- The End of School has mostly been anticlimactic. This semester in general was a light load, so when everything just tapered off and was done, it took me by surprise. I defended my thesis last Friday and it went as well as I could have hoped for. And I made friends with Dean Stellar, who, as Bobby has pointed out, looks exactly like Stephen Spielberg. The paper itself will get another look-through tonight, and then it is getting emailed in. I graduate on Friday.
- What I'm (Not) Doing Next Year is the obvious follow-up question. Short answer? I don't know. The grad school thing did not pan out, but I am ok with that. Let us recall my whole 'I will apply this year and see where I can defer' plan. Well, now it is the 'I will take a year off and see where I can get in next year' plan. Six one way, half a dozen the other, really. At this point, I can see myself leaving Boston when my lease is up in September, but nothing is for sure yet. I have all summer to figure it out.
So there it is. I feel old, but suddenly I feel incredibly free. I want to do something wonderful with this next year, and I want to make it count for all it is worth. The fact that I am comfortable with not knowing what that might be yet lets me know that leaving academia for a while is a good idea. I need something less structured and radically different from what I've done over the last four years. But I am still sure I want to come back to this. Somehow, in the last two or three weeks of putzing around and half-assing the senior finals push, I realized that I am meant to do this history thing; it is exactly right for me. So that's pretty cool.
Aaaaand, /sentimentalism.
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| a ridiculous 36 hours |
[01 Mar 2008|09:43pm] |
My life story for the past two days, somewhat abbreviated. (After writing this, I have decided it is really long. And probably not well-abbreviated)
Thursday bedtime: I am stressed out but mostly packed. Heinous Roommate (HR) is camped out in the living room, so my stuff stays in my bedroom. I go to sleep.
Friday morning: Wake up. HR has gone to work for the day, so I begin to move everything into the living room. This doesn't take all that long, but it is stressful nevertheless as I am once again reminded of just how much crap I have.
Friday noontime: Catch the bus to the UHaul place. Arrive at sketchy UHaul distribution center. Last weekend I reserved a 10-foot truck, but UHaul only has a 14' truck for me. Oh well, I will make it work. I drive up Mass Ave. Terrified. By the time I arrive at the apartment, Bobby is there. I make him parallel park the Beast.
Friday 1:15: We go upstairs to start moving stuff out. Surprise! HR has taken a half day of work to come sit with her friends amongst all my stuff in the living room to watch dvds and watch me move out. Eventually Lindsey, and later, Alexis, show up. HR does not say a word to me. HR is Heinous Roommate for a reason. I plot ways of taking toilet paper with me.
Friday 4:30: Move-out is done. I take the troops out for thank-you pizza and bevs.
Friday 5:30: Now to park the Beast. We try all the Northeastern lots and garages. We are turned away. Guess what? A 14-foot truck is actually 23 feet long. And has an overhead clearance of 11 feet. I am fairly certain that no garage in Boston is that spacious. So we drive out to two outlying T stations. No dice. No room at the inn. Frustrated. Driving the Beast in tears is scary. Bobby wants me to pull over. I pull it together.
Friday 6:45: It is decided to continue on to Andover to park in the O'Neills' driveway.
Friday 7:30: Andover. Bobby's parents, who are very gracious wonderful people, assure me it is no trouble. They also inform me that we are expecting a heavy snow tonight and tomorrow. Heart sinks. Mild panic. Onward to the commuter rail.
Friday 8:50: Commuter rail back to Boston.
Friday 10:30: Arrive at Lindsey's to spend the night on the Cold Couch. I wear a hat to bed. Toss. Turn. Sleep.
Saturday 10:00: Leave Lindsey's. Stop for bagels. Head to North Station to the commuter rail. Again.
Saturday 10:45: Meet Most Obnoxious Train Station Neighbor ever. The Neighbor-babble to coffee-consumed ratio is too high. We make excuses to me.
Saturday 12:30: Andover. Get the truck. In the snow. Drive white-knuckled down 93 at a swift 45 miles per hour.
Saturday 1:15: Jamaica Plain. Park the Beast on South Huntington. Go exploring in Brookline Village until Chris, my subletter person, is out. Have coffee. Steal internet. Waste time. Eat soup. Waste time. Get call from Chris. Head back to truck.
Saturday 3:30: Beast's battery is dead. Panic. Cuss. Beat steering wheel.
Saturday 3:32: Call roadside assistance.
Saturday 4:08: Surprised to have the jump so quickly.
Saturday 4:20: Begin move-out. Grunt. Groan. Cuss.
Saturday 6:20: Move-out over. The Beast is late being returned. I care not. I drive the Beast home. I wait in a 45-minute line at UHaul. They let me leave. I take a bus to a bus to another bus.
Saturday 8:30: I am home.
I am home. Sure, my belongings are all in boxes all over my place, it smells funny, the bathroom is pink, and my neighbors are sketchballs. But I am home. And I am showered. And I am in a freshly made bed. And I am away from HR. Which goes without saying is huge. Absolutely ginormous.
I am celebrating with gummibears.
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| oh, and i am moving out |
[12 Feb 2008|09:38pm] |
So... I'm moving out of my apartment (finally). Without going into specifics, it has become intolerable for me to live here anymore, so I am moving out March 1st.
I have an adorable studio lined up in Jamaica Plain on South Huntington. Its address may be Jamaica Plain, but it is really the backside of the Hill. So all you Hillites can come and visit me. And you, too, Jamaican Plainers.
If you would like to come help me move, I may be in need of assistance on moving day. There will be a UHaul. And I am not above bribing you with beer and pizza. Just so you know.
Now, to find a subletter....
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| eggs, son. |
[12 Feb 2008|09:34pm] |
So. This isn't going to be one of those entries where I discuss at length what 'the way you like your eggs' means about you as a person. However, I am going to pose this:
I like my eggs scrambled and salted, and placed between two pieces of grape-jellied toast. Next to a pool of ketchup for the scrambled stragglers.
If you cannot accept this about me, we need to reevaluate our friendship.
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| what is wrong with this picture? |
[03 Feb 2008|07:45pm] |
So. I am sitting on my couch. Watching the Super Bowl. Alone. Bobby stood me up for our annual evening of "We Don't Care About Football, and Besides, the Puppy Bowl is FAR More Exciting" because one of his classes requires him to watch the Super Bowl commercials... So I am embracing my Bostoness and am pigging out on the couch while pretending like I don't hate Tom Brady and his smartwater ads.
In other news, does anyone know how you get to be one of those lucky people who gets to swarm the field at half-time to watch the most over-produced Tom Petty show you've ever been to? And how can I get my hands on one of those lighter/cell phone light-up alternatives? Also, I would like to know when exactly Tom Petty got to be so elderly...
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| i probably cannot make this work again |
[31 Jan 2008|08:38pm] |
So, you know how sometimes you actually pay attention to the lyrics of a song that you have heard a billion times and are blown away by the words? Like, in a bad way? I'm not going to subject you to another one of my lyrical posts, but the song is "Transcontinental" by Pedro the Lion. Oh, geez.
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| the ice of boston is muddy |
[25 Jan 2008|09:35am] |
|
Hello. Sometime when I am not so bitter about the "feels like 3 degrees" outside, I will write about the Rock Boat. For now, let's just say that it was awesome and very hard to come back to Boston.
So here's what happened: the last night of the cruise was insanity and I went to bed at like 3:30 or 4am. And then woke up at 7:15am. And then spent the day battling various long lines and general incompetence. I got home around 9pm and had to write a paper. And had not done the reading for said paper. In retrospect, the assignment was fairly easy and didn't take all that long to do, but I am going to complain about it anyway due to the stress it caused me all day yesterday (you know, on the plane, sensing impending doom of a lot of work, nothing I can do about it...). Then I went to bed at 1:30am.
Then I woke up at 5:30am to go to the orthopedistdude about my hip. This took two buses and a T train there, and two buses back. The appointment was dumb and I get to go to physical therapy. But I came away from the appointment with the distinct impression that Mr. Doctor Man seemed to think there is nothing wrong with me. Terrific.
And, because of the cold, I am refusing to go home and take a nap before my 11:45 class. Instead, I am being a creeper at the library drinking my second coffee of the day.
So tired.
So very very tired.
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