You'd think that a whole seven days of bumming would leave me at least enough time to gather my thoughts. Apparently not.
Last weekend was a blur of things at church. I spent a total of twenty minutes at home before having to rush off to Cheras. It felt like I was at church the entire weekend from Saturday afternoon through to Sunday, although technically I did manage to go home for seven hours of sleep.
On Monday I chose a pair of glasses and got my eyes checked.
On Tuesday I must have picked up that pair of glasses as well as a pair of sunglasses, although I don't remember much of it. Oh wait, yes, now I recall - it was also the morning I had a blisteringly painful facial; and I haven't had a chance to use my new sunglasses properly because everyday after that has been generously overcast.
On Wednesday I completely humiliated myself on the badminton court filling in for one of the aunties that couldn't make it.
Thursday went by with the intention of getting some exercise in that was quickly surrendered with the deluge that filled Thursday evening.
And today is Friday. I took my dog to the vet after we concluded that she wasn't play acting with the limping. It turns out her kneecaps have a tendency to click out of place, fortunately for now they can sorta be clicked back in, so the day was filled with empathetic cries of 'Fix the dog!'. Poor Perdy.
