I passed the day lounging around with an ice pack and a bottle of ibuprofen. Seems to be working. Not fast enough, mind you, but nothing to do about that really. I’ll make a point of telling Asa about how patience is a virtue at breakfast in the morning and feeling smug. Honestly the whole thing is too embarrassing to gripe about. It’s not a big deal, just ill-timed.
I did get to read a bunch of sports science-y things today, which was great. I’ve gone through a curiosity dry spell (numbed by too much kiddie lit), so I was pretty happy to feel so engaged. And now Eliot has lured me into watching Sherlock, a “contemporary update” of Sherlock Holmes on the BBC. Lots of texting, nicotine patches, and “it’s okay if you are gay” so far. I recommend it.