Well. I think I am now sort of facing the right way and maybe even sometimes perhaps might feel the wind is behind us this time. Maaaybe.
I am dealing with paperwork for the agency while the JB cavorts in Chicago on his annual "work" trip. The medical didn't cause any problems. I like this doctor. She is kind and practical and reminds me of a woodland creature, which is a bonus. Slight snafu in that there is a requirement for a TB test and she tells me that if I have had CBG vaccine in the Byzantine era also known as Twangy's yuf, which I did, I will most likely test positive with the Tine test, and therefore must go and get a chest x-ray to confirm the non-existence of TB in my lungs. How fun. I am going there today for this unnecessary blast of radiation to my vital organs! YAY. Actually, who cares, I feel quite whateverish about it. At this stage I would dress up like a poodle and jump though a flaming hoop in order to make this happen. The cholesterol tests might be also be a good idea given my heart-disease riddled family, too.
I have been getting out quite a bit, in an effort to avoid losing the power of speech in the absence of the JB. Otherwise I would fully expect to be communicating exclusively in meeows at this point. (What is the proper verb of the noise cats make? I do not know.) On Tuesday, I went to a sparsely populated life-drawing class in a Georgian building. It might have been better attended except the facilitator sent an email out in the afternoon, in which he told us that the class would be a reverse one, where we'd have to strip and the model would be clothed.
It is a weird social convention, isn't it, that says public nudity is a crime and oh so shameful, except when for art, where it is perfectly okay. I am not terribly naked myself. We don't have the climate, you see, or the central heating, for what in this house is referred to as The Air Bath.
I leave you with this startling revelation.
Have a good weekend, everyone.