Man, what a week. Paul’s wallet was stolen on Saturday just as he and cousin Erika and I were about to go out to my sister’s on LI. I spent Sunday at Becky’s coming down with a cold. Everybody else went out to get pumpkins to carve; I stayed home and drank water on the couch. They returned and carved many pumpkins; I continued to process fluids. When we got home on Sunday night, a neighbor brought us Paul’s wallet, which had apparently been dumped sans cash on our stoop. My faith in humanity was somewhat restored but my immune system continued to collapse, and I spent the next two days quietly turning orange juice into phlegm.
Tuesday morning Dad had his right knee replaced. The only thing he got to keep was his patella. By ‘keep’ I mean that his patella remains in situ, not that he is now wearing it on a chain ’round his neck. Far too chunky for his taste anyway. I think he comes home from the hospital tomorrow, to begin a few months of painstaking rehabilitation—and then he gets to do it all over on the left side in January! But if anybody can bulldozer through the process of learning to use plastic leg bones, it’s my father.
More week: more phlegm, plus pink flamingo practices. TNYA’s pink flamingo performance will be stunning, mark my words. Dizzying, perhaps; semicoherent, okay maybe; but stunning. I haven’t swum a lap since Saturday afternoon, but I’m reisisting the urge to begin my pre-Games “oh my god I’m going to suck why am I doing this I can’t swim who do I think I’m kidding yammer yammer yammer” session until I at least reach the Southern Hemisphere. The cold is now largely gone. All that remains for me to do is to clean up the mess and get my body back into fighting form. I leave for Australia in three days and have ten thousand things to do, including (with luck) the completion of the never-ending e-commerce project.
Paul left for Asia this morning, shiny new laptop in tow. If you’re reading this, sweetie, I’m very proud of you. I’ll see you in SF.
Finally, congratulations to Bobbó and the future Mrs. Bobbó. I wish you a lifetime of boundless joy.