I'm a drunk and I don't drink booze

Tweet

Isn't that better than talking about my Trump depression? Good news: for me, anyway, its good news. My Yule Tale is in my house. Daughter emailed yesterday that she had sent the Tale to be copied at Staples. After water exercise this morning I drove over and picked up thirty copies. My oh my daughter drew a grand illustration of a cowboy Santa. The other fantastic news: I found the three hole punch so hubby can bind the Tales. I tidy and often when I need something I have to back track where I put something. I'm back to the booze that I don't drink. It is too easy to fall off the wagon. Too easy to tell myself that I don't need to go to physical therapy. I don't need to put my joints through those exercises- in the therapist's facility or in my house. Too easy to not go to the pool either. An opening appeared at the therapists tomorrow late morning so I made my finger hit the YES button. This coming Thursday morning I head back to the orthopedist's office for a chat with the second more experienced doc. My heart is saying Heck No on knee replacement but we'll see. Meantime my little kid is kicking up a tantrum about tomorrow's physical therapy hour. Nope. Can't win.