After a tumultuous, frustrating and frightening three months of trying to do someone else’s job, I have finally calmed down enough to begin studying Italian again. In related news: my lips are numb.
Also: this is supercool.
Because I am full of sore muscles, arthritic joints and smartness, I drive myself over to the massage therapist’s office once a week and turn myself in. I explain what parts of my glorious person are laughing at me and not with me, then do half an hour of stand up comedy lying down, because if I stopped telling jokes, I might go a little screamy. Therapeutic massage, as practiced by Merciless Mark, can be very painful, but it forces me to come up with new material on an urgent basis.
Tata: This spot here feels wider after the surgery.
MM: Any chance the surgeon gave you a new body part? I hear that happens.
Tata: Why didn’t I ask him, “Hey Doc, can you make that narrower? I wouldn’t mind narrower hips.”
MM: Shake his hand and slip him a little something?
Tata: “My friend Mr. Lincoln would like you to take off – say – two inches?”
MM: “And his friend Mr. Washington would like to thank you.”
Tata: “What if Mr. Hamilton joined this party?” Sixteen bucks! I guess you could make up money.
MM: “Mr. Taft would like you to make the scar reeeeeally small.”
Tata: He’s on the one million dollar, right? No, the $250 bill!
MM: What’s Kennedy on?
Tata: The fifty cent piece. You flip that to your orthopedic surgeon and say, “Here, kid. Don’t spend it all in one place.”
MM: “Susan B. Anthony nominates you for Surgeon of the Year.”
Dang. He’ll be here all week.
Tomorrow, I start bicycle commuting again. It’s a huge step forward and I’m very excited about turning up at work, flushed and sweaty, on purpose!
Mom’s having more surgeries. I am sorry to be so scarce, but a gal can’t be both fresh air and Times Square without tearing her dancing shoes to shreds.
Three PT sessions per week with time to rest has been kicking my ass for about a month. Next week: back to work, less rest and down to two sessions per week, thus I am expecting an ass-kicking of comic proportions. I will make every effort to avoid drooling, but no promises.