Ol’ Dislocatey is really being a bitch this week, and Ed is filling my head with all sorts of horror stories about how my arm is slowly immobilizing with scar tissue and herpes because I didn’t go to physical therapy. Frankly, I didn’t know I was supposed to go. It’s not like I have a regular doctor who keeps me abreast of these things, and I don’t exactly have any benefits that would just love to send me to multiple sessions of Flexi-Bendi Time so I just sort of left my arm alone. It’s mostly fine, really. I don’t know that it’s nearly as traumatic as Ed seems to think it is. I think he’s just being mean and is also jealous of my awesomeness.

Where is the postman? I am eagerly awaiting the postman. I took my raise and bonus to heart a little frivolously, and am now waiting for the fruits of my astro-labour to arrive from the internet. Given my issues with patience, the wait is a little more difficult than it should be. Besides, it’s not like I have anything else to look forward to during the day – working naked is only so interesting for so long.

So hey, what day is it?

It’s SCOOTER FOR ED DAY!!!!! I’ve been waiting for over two years for this. Ed doesn’t seem to be very excited yet, but I’ve got enough glee for both of us. YAY! Another scooter buddy!

It would be awesome if my skin would stop acting like that of a particularly greasy 15 year old.