This is when you find out how lucky you are to have a posse. Yeah, I got peeps. Talk about being encircled so darn tight with love and support that your only option is to get better!
Plus having Thai food brought to you from a restaurant you've been wanting to try for 4 years helps tremendously.
Beef stir fry, some sort of cold Thai version of a fajita and a soup with what looked like donkey nuts in the bottom (they were delectable, little chewy, but what do you expect from...). Devoured it all after work!
The fajita thingy intrigued me. I didn't know what half the food was. What was deduced to be some sort of prickly fruit turned out to have appendages.
Now, I'm thinking it was a marine creature or cat's tongue. Jury's out, but whatever it was, it was delicious.
While gleaning positive energy from all those around me, I also kept eating other people's food. It's a great system, you ought to try it! By eating half a coworker's lunch, I discovered beet hummus. Unless you've slathered the pink stuff on a Wassa cracker before, you haven't lived.
And living is what I've been doing again for a few days. Doing the survival stroke for far too many weeks without a day off, then hearing that Flynn's surgery was still weeks away had made me throw my hands up in the air with an 'that F$%& does it, I quit!' attitude. Ok, so it's going to be close to three months without a day off. When life gets tough, get tougher.
This morning, I did just that and I MADE time off out of thin air. I took some time for myself.
Dax, Garrett and I went triathloning.
We did our 5 mile run. Nothing beats running with dogs daily.
Add in kayaking, well that's gravy.
Garrett doesn't swim, so he got his own kayak to keep him from being dunked by Dax.
He dunked himself.
Until he figured out a lower center of gravity is better.
This is how Dax and I towed him across the lake.
Not too bad for his first time in a kayak.
For the last phase of the triathlon. Dax helped pull Garrett in the wagon.
Another first for Garrett. Another A+ for my crew.
When I found Garrett three years ago, he had pneumonia. His vet at the time said he'd never be good at running because of the permanent damage to his lungs from chronic pneumonia. Here's proof rehab works. I impose a max of 5 miles, but I'm proud of that boy. He deserves a ride home.
In style.
Back home, something arrived in the post.
From a concerned member of my posse, no doubt. I'm already on Chapter 2. Thank you, whomever you are.
