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I think it was the cough syrup. The codeine-laced one that stops the allergy strangle-cough and that sometimes when I least expect it gives me the serene happiness of souls in heaven. But I was, well, serenely happy all afternoon, a placid content that went well with the warm sun and and cool breeze and blue skies and all the busy folk out on Bloor pleasantly aware that tomorrow is a holiday hurray. I can sort of see how the world would look if I weren't doped and it looks... OK, but mundanely familiar, not timelessly magical. I had a couple of bao buns before massage at the little Taiwanese place around the corner and it felt all 'brave new world that has such cooking in it.' As if I'd never had a bao bun before. Would have liked to take some gyoza home with me but they're frozen and I take a long time to get from that corner to my place. Thaw and refreeze is not recommended.
Naoko my masseuse is accablé about the state of my upper arms. Apparently I have no muscle in the right one, which I am willing to believe after last winter's attempts to shovel snow. No idea what happened to it: it's not like my legs where there's a definite reason for the wastage. Maybe hefting babies kept them in shape, though I don't remember me doing much hefting the last two years I worked. Anyway she thinks the arm weakness contributes to the truly owie elbows so back I go to the tennis elbow exercises I had before, and stopped, because they hurt. Now I must do them very minimally and maybe in time some strength will come back. Though seriously: given how they have to support my weight on the walker, they ought to be stronger than that.
When I ran into Elmtree's mom the other week she was putting stuff out on the Front Lawn Dollar Store, and one item was a thick stack of Times Literary Supplements. I took the lot-- at least a year's worth-- and have been reading them of an evening because neither of my library books holds my attention. (One is Black Water Sister and I'm wondering why I find it so slow after her Sorceror books and the wonderful Spirits Abroad.) I should try them with the table bicycle which I've been neglecting in favour of walking to various coffee shops hem hem. My brother still brings me New Yorkers which I slog through largely from FOMO. I should just look at the cartoons and recycle the rest, because the TLS is much more congenial right now. It talks about books and English personalities; the NY talks about politics and American personalities (grifters and criminals often as not) and I know which I'm more interested in.
Naoko my masseuse is accablé about the state of my upper arms. Apparently I have no muscle in the right one, which I am willing to believe after last winter's attempts to shovel snow. No idea what happened to it: it's not like my legs where there's a definite reason for the wastage. Maybe hefting babies kept them in shape, though I don't remember me doing much hefting the last two years I worked. Anyway she thinks the arm weakness contributes to the truly owie elbows so back I go to the tennis elbow exercises I had before, and stopped, because they hurt. Now I must do them very minimally and maybe in time some strength will come back. Though seriously: given how they have to support my weight on the walker, they ought to be stronger than that.
When I ran into Elmtree's mom the other week she was putting stuff out on the Front Lawn Dollar Store, and one item was a thick stack of Times Literary Supplements. I took the lot-- at least a year's worth-- and have been reading them of an evening because neither of my library books holds my attention. (One is Black Water Sister and I'm wondering why I find it so slow after her Sorceror books and the wonderful Spirits Abroad.) I should try them with the table bicycle which I've been neglecting in favour of walking to various coffee shops hem hem. My brother still brings me New Yorkers which I slog through largely from FOMO. I should just look at the cartoons and recycle the rest, because the TLS is much more congenial right now. It talks about books and English personalities; the NY talks about politics and American personalities (grifters and criminals often as not) and I know which I'm more interested in.
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Yes! Honestly. I don't know why "They" won't allow opioids to be prescribed as antidepressants! Because they're "addictive?" But Prozac is addictive.
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Puritan legacy? If it makes you happy, it's wrong. Otherwise why won't They prescribe opioid painkillers to people who are actually dying of cancer on the grounds that opioids are addictive.