Yeah, Chicago won last night. It's over.
I don't really want
to talk about it. There's nothing* anyone, no matter how
well-intentioned, can say that will make me feel better today. Only time
will do that. I couldn't look at that part of the newspaper this
morning, and have been glancing at photos online quickly-and-away all
day. I'm not ready to listen to today's Backhand Shelf podcast. I'm
trying to think about the extra sleep I'll be getting, instead of the
reason why.
*No, really. I'm pretty sure. I appreciate it, but no. Nothing.
To add
injury to insult, I whacked my elbow on the corner of something this
morning, hard enough to bruise, and my arm hurt all day. Just what I
needed. It turns out that the motion of lifting a glass, in order to drink from it,
is not complementary to this bruise. (Fortunately, my left arm is able
to step in for this duty.) Moreover, the simple motion of swinging my
arm while walking is startlingly painful, so I've been walking with my
arm relatively immobile by my side, which seems like such an
overreaction to a simple bruise except ow, ow, stop the ow.
Time to put in a silly movie and eat some fresh peas, I think. Give me time.
I mostly knit, sometimes crochet or cross-stitch. I read, a lot. I love cats. I love hockey, especially my no-longer-local team, the Boston Bruins. Want more? Read on.
The comment that made me feel a little better was from Universal Hub: they got father than any other team in the NHL except one! Which, yeah, doesn't help much, but it does put the accomplishment into a better light for me. They did good!
ReplyDeleteAnd gee, I wonder if the lockout and attendant shortened season contributed to the number of injuries they were playing through. It seemed more brutal to me this season.
Yep. 'Bout sums it up.
ReplyDelete