Recovery

Today, without muscle relaxers or narcotics, I drove to the closest bank, deposited my paycheck via the ATM, ate a virtually tasteless chicken salad (at the closest diner), and then, as fast as my little legs would carry me (NOT FAST!), walked over to the nearest store, just to see what was up. It didn't take very long for my languid shuffle to attract some suspicious attention. Northern Virginia is not the South. *smile, shrug* "Can I help you?" an employee asked, without the faintest trace of genuine concern on his face. (NOVA is not the South.) I laughed, "Oh no, that's okay, I'm just walked slowly because I hurt my back recently." He looked as though he didn't believe me. "Well, just let me know if you need anything," he said, with a really nervy, piercing, intense stare...I decided that he was the universe's way of telling me to go back to bed and take my muscle relaxer. So I drove home, and that's what I did. However, I established further contact with the outside world by watching JETSET. If you watch it long enough, you'll not only learn about couchsurfing websites and the religion of Google, you'll also get to see clips of the Central Park roller bladers! I myself saw them only a few short years ago...I have recently come to believe that the passage of time between ages 18 and 20 (2 years) feels roughly equivalent to the passage of time between ages 23 and 29 (6 years).