Aiyiyi, I blew it today. I accidentally used my alternative email signature, the one that pleads for people to read my online diary at this URL, on a business email to one of my clients. I hope to heck that person is the sort who never reads sigs. I don't mind if they read this, but it's dreadfully tacky to be soliciting readers that way. "Your itinerary has been changed, and hey, there's a new entry up at Aries Moon." I don't think so.
The whole household has been discombobulated today. The first day after John leaves is always nutty because I'm not much of a morning person (ahem) and the pets have a routine with John about which I'm largely clueless. This morning was typical. I grasped the walking the dog bit, and the feeding the cats crunchy food part, but I wasn't too sure about the biscuit-in-the-morning business. Dixie had to give me several pleading looks while I asked her if she was still hungry, still thirsty, ready to go outside, etc. Finally, I worked out that she was expecting a dog biscuit, so I gave it to her. She promptly dashed over to the sliding glass door and bonked right into it. Yow! She wasn't hurt but I was wigging out. Apparently, John opens the door before he gives her the treat. I've got to remember to get instructions before he goes away the next time.
At lunchtime I had a chiropractic appointment with the bonecracker which made my neck crackle and pop, my spine reposition itself, and my back muscles ache. Serious stuff, this subluxation. It feels great to have more movement in my neck, and I'm convinced this is actually going to do some long term good, but it's so radical. I thought I was going to go back to the gentler doctor but at the last minute I realized I wanted some immediate results; the other guy would never do much for any short term alleviation of symptoms. Also, and I admit this was a huge factor, I can walk to Dr. Fixit's office for a treatment, and he charges $5 less per session than Dr. Woowoo.
I'll need it so I can buy an icepack for my muscles. Maybe I'll use the icepack on Dixie if we keep having trouble with the concept of closed glass doors.
