I'm beginning to think that my constant to-ing and fro-ing getting stuff for Tom, etc. AND horsing a wheelchair around are actually starting to "count" as exercise. I had several pairs of black pants -- the exact same size and brand as several pairs of khakis -- that have been tight in the tush since purchase. At last Sunday's meeting I had to keep tugging a black pair up -- indicative of at least some change in inches if not in poundage. (Actually, I haven't a clue what I weigh, but I'm sure I'll find out next week at a check-up -- maybe I should pay attention this time.)

Good thing the activity is registering as "exercise"...my regular exercise routine (a round of exercises with hand weights and morning leg raises) keeps becoming irregular (or non-existent) and then it's difficult to get back into the habit.

Woke up at 5 a.m. and couldn't get back to sleep, so turned on the light and decluttered a few of the magazines my hairstylist loaded me down with last time I got my hair cut. Not the sort of thing I regularly read (fashion magazines), but I like glancing through them every year or so to see what the vapid are up to. I prefer "house porn" ("home decorating" porn) and I've got a few of those to go through, too. Then I'll take the pile to the walk-in medical facility at Lee Circle so they've got something besides drug company handouts to read.

Anything actually accomplished this weekend is gravy. I'm concentrating on resting and smoothing out my brain. And maybe poking around in drawers to see where I left my patience. I hope I didn't accidently throw it out or take it to Goodwill or the library sale... (Speaking of which, I have a few more books to contribute to the sale on Monday.)

Thanks, Mud Elf, for correcting my typo! 'Preciate it!

Linn