You get used to the freedom of living alone--walking around in states of undress, eating bizarre things at weird times, doing totally unpretty-looking workouts, talking to cats, etc. But when you attempt to glide gracefully onto your yoga ball as part of a core-building exercise and manage to fly off ass over teakettle and land halfway across the room with your legs where your arms should be, you kind of feel torn between being glad no one was watching and wishing someone was there to laugh with you; physical comedy of that sort should never be wasted.
You know you've been single too long when the last man to call you "baby" is your cognitively impaired patient. Related note: said patient, when he thought I asked him to do something he'd already done, exclaimed in long-suffering tones, "I already did that, baby!" Which was his one and only coherent sentence of the entire session. Nice to know spousal exasperation can survive profound global aphasia.
Self-affirmation of the day: Whatever poor decisions I've made in the past, I am proud to announce that I have never had sex on a golf course with a married (not to me) woman dressed as an M and M. I met someone this weekend who told me that story about themselves and I thought, wow, now I'm feeling much better about my life choices!
I have 23 days of work left. Crikey!!!
And finally, I think the secret of life is learning how to perfectly fit the sunbeam:
Love to all.
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