Never schedule a podiatrist appointment on your birthday.
He poked some at the foot. It’s a good sign that there’s no sharp pains, just dull ones that fluctuate. That said, it could be another 2-3 months before I’m fully healed. Ugh.
Got my (expired today) drivers license renewed for another eight years. Good new pic.
My local yarn shop had: a) a sale; b) a full selection of Addi turbos; and b) guy-colored hand-dyed merinos. Heaven.
Dropped off 2/3 of my shirts at the dry cleaners.
After the poking of the heel to determine the level of pain, it started to really, really throb, so the dry cleaners were by bike, and the yarn shop was by car. Otherwise I stayed in and rested the foot.
This past year was not what I thought it was going to be. Between the breakup and the foot injury pretty much nothing that I’d planned has gone right. But, as Dad likes to say, “You drive ’em, you ding ’em.” Or, to quote the Princess Bride, “Life is pain, Highness; anyone who says otherwise is selling something.” I’ll recover, eventually. But for now, I’m just biding my time. And enjoying a nice, quite birthday.