It was less “Michael Douglas on a rage bender” and more “Kimli can’t walk and read email at the same time”, but last night there was falling and there was down and now I walk with a limp. I turned my ankle, banged up my knee and dropped my phone (which thankfully came out unscathed), but that’s nothing compared to the invisible injury: I apparently scraped the hell out of my wrist and hands, but didn’t discover it until I was elbow deep in chopped jalapenos for a salsa party. My skin feels like it is on fire. I do not care for it.
Tomorrow there shall be much eating and a variety of television-related festivities at SPARTA. It should be good fun, and as the weekends roll on we inch ever closer to our trip to London (I can officially start packing in 12 days!). I am all kinds of excited about all things – work is great, there will be meteors tonight, and I’m about to go make muffins – things are good, and I find myself wanting to share the good with those around me.