Yes, I know. I haven’t written about the weekend yet. And I will, just not now.
That’s one of the things about conference time here at Ye Olde Not for Profit. I’m really busy. Which is always novel. For about a week. And then I hate it. I’m still in the novel phase.
I got a call from the doctor’s office yesterday. My blood work is back from the lab and I have an appointment to see the doctor tomorrow afternoon. On the one hand, I’m terrified. On the other, I’m convinced everything is ok, otherwise they’d have called sooner. Or maybe not. Or at least about the kidney ultrasound. I’m assuming that that’s not life or death or the tech would have said something at the time. Or the doctor would have called later that day, or whatever. I’ve been drinking a lot of cranberry juice. I’m pretending it’s helping. Fake it ’til you make it, or something…
I’m taking the day off from work tomorrow, because it’s ridiculous to come downtown just to turn around and leave again, twice. So there’s more organizing in the works. I totally unpacked and repacked my knitting stuff Monday, so now it’s not really sorted in any particular order, but at least it’s all (mostly) packed away and not overflowing into the living room. I need more storage thingies. I smell a trip to The Container Store in my near future. Hooray!
Oh, and I’ve nearly kicked the bronchitis, woo!
Anyway, that’s things for now.
Only sort of breathlessly yours,