Last Day in Captivity

I’m railing against the injustice that this is the last day I’m not allowed up and around, which means that I’ll be back on my feet just in time to jet off to work.

I’m not actually dreading work, but I would have liked a little more time to goof off. Damon and I usually spend so much of a weekend tramping around wherever we are, and I love that. He’s been off wandering the city without me. Which is actually good because I’m confident he’s bored and it’s just as well he’s not hanging around here asking, “What are you doing?” every few minutes. He’s a going out kind of guy.

That should be another great benefit of New York. I know Damon really misses having a gang of friends. I do too, but he misses it more. He’s already got some close friends in NYC, as do I. So the opportunities to get out will be ready and waiting. Not to mention that they’re almost all theater people, which he’ll love more than I will. I’ll like it in a qualified way. He’ll love it unreservedly.

So here’s the big plan for the day: I’m going to take a bath. The hilarity will ensue when I try to do this with one leg hooked over the side to keep the bandages dry. I have figured out how I’ll do everything but get out of the tub once I’m squeaky clean. That will be the funny part.

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One response to this post.

  1. The hilarity will ensue when I try to do this with one leg hooked over the side to keep the bandages dry. I have figured out how I’ll do everything but get out of the tub once I’m squeaky clean. That will be the funny part.
    (pushing glasses up ridge of nose, assuming nasal voice)
    The, uh, prudent technique would be to, errum, drain the tub upon completion of the cleaning ritual, ena-bling you to stand in a normal way without allowing the bandages to, erum, moisten.
    gafloigal.

    Reply

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