And so on to physio

Having been told in no uncertain terms that Mrs. Ottawacker had a videocall and that a backdrop of my snoring would not be conducive to a “professional look”, I was turfed out of bed at 8. Following yesterday’s battering by Anna, I had put the Tylenol by the bedside table, but Mrs. Ottawacker had taken them down with her when she got up, so I was forced to get out of bed with no mental crutch. I felt surprisingly fine. You see, this is the problem. Feeling good does not make for good copy.
 
I made coffee, wrote a few cards to people with birthdays coming up, and then completed my backblips. I now have a complete, unbroken record of each day going back to my rather tardy arrival back in 2019. There, I knowingly posted an image to stop Raheny_Eye from going on about how good blipfoto was. I say “knowingly” because I know my fads, and there was no way I would be doing it for more than a week. I suppose there is no inspiration quite like the laying out of $7CDN per month to get you using a platform. So, there you go, future social scientists or present data miners will have an unbroken record of what life in a time of ongoing uncertainty for a rather irritable quinquagenarian in Ottawa.
 
Following a period of misery some call work, I headed off to my physio. Youssef seems a knowledgeable guy but I can already see these sessions, designed to make my life easier, are going to make my life worse. He gasped audibly as I struggled to touch my knees on the first stretch. “There are corpses more flexible than you,” he said. After 75 minutes of being poked, prodded, poleaxed and pummeled, I felt more paralysed than pepped, so he might have a point. I wandered home to sit miserably at my desk. Feeling in need of sustenance, I went to check out the excellent “Résonances” blog written by my friend Patrick (in French). If ever you feel the need to get some accessible French critiques of music or literature or film or, well, anything really, I’d recommend a quick shufti. He’s one of those annoying polymaths, who just happens to be good at everything he touches. I had a quick read of his excellent review of a concert by Asaf Avidan at Vienne and then thought I had better go and get Ottawacker Jr. some food before his goalkeeping practice.
 
Goalkeeping practice was good, I prepared pork chops and pasta for his return, and we ate before crashing to an hour’s Olympics. I thought about watching the final episode of the Frida Kahlo documentary, but put it off till tomorrow. Some of us need our beauty sleep.