Who Woulda Thought?
The first day back at the office, today, a good day: a day of Truth, Justice and the American Way, which in my case boiled down to Vicodin and three cups of black coffee. Really though, not bad: lunch with the usual suspects at the Burrito place, some running around to say hello to people to mention I'm back - "in one piece, life is swell, nothing too critical left on the operating table" - and ready for, you know, more of the same.
I received the two Augusten Burroughs books I ordered from Amazon today - Dry and Running With Scissors. I mentioned I'd read Dry while recovering at MSM's palacial country spread down in Hollister last week and was much impressed. I think I'll knock this off and go read Running With Scissors and maybe look at Seymour Hersh's article in The New Yorker, which also arrived. Reading instead of burning my brains out playing Freecell and writing this journal? Who woulda thought? Sounds like progress after sixty years.
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