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That Was Fun. Except Not.

Becca took a look at her room--and particularly her much-abused carpet--and decided it was time to rent a carpet cleaner.  So much of today has included bringing things--a futon, a mattress, clothes, her desk chair downstairs, then ferrying hot water up (to fill the carpet cleaner) and down (to throw out the filthy waste water).  I also did three...or is that four?...loads of laundry.  And of course I over-used my wrist, even trying to work one-handed.  Still, the room is hugely cleaner, the kid has sorted out three bags of clothes and two bags of shoes to go to Goodwill, and when everything is returned upstairs tomorrow morning the house will be much much tidier.

Meantime, I think I may take a pain pill tonight for the first time in two weeks, because Ow.

The wrist continues to improve.  I'm doing my physical therapy religiously, and already my range of motion in almost all directions has improved markedly.  The direction in which I need to do the most work is (how to explain this?) the backward movement of my hand (if I lay my hand, wrist, and forearm flat, palm down, and then raise my fingers up, pushing slightly on the heel of my hand while my forearm stays on the table).  So I have special backward-movements-of-my-hand exercises added to all the others.  It's amazing how much energy it takes, just being slightly broken.

Ah, well.  I am mending.  And Bec's room is clean.  This has to be a good thing.


Two bags of shoes? I am not sure that I could fill two bags with all the shoes I have worn in my life, let alone shoes-I-still-have-that-I-don't-want-to-wear-any-more. Why is it that I feel I'm missing out...?
I probably have used-and-discarded two bags of shoes (maybe even three) in my long and misspent life. But she's only 18! Cheap shoes + fashionista = SHOES.