Every year I vow to do a better job of organizing tax information/financial information, as well as keeping it updated. I did a pretty good job for a little while last year, and then . . . stopped. Today I worked a number of hours on organizing some information. I really need to learn how to use Excel and spreadsheets. You’d think that I’d have learned by now. I’m sure it would be really helpful. I guess that’s something I need to commit to very soon. Like maybe next week. Sigh. Of course, once I get it going, I have to remember to enter the data. That’s the part that I really get slow on. Or . . . stopped on, to be more accurate.
I did not sleep the day away today. That’s a good thing. It snowed. That’s a bad thing. I couldn’t go outside to exercise, thanks to the slabs of ice under the snow. I’m a clod. I will randomly fall. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week. In the meantime, better warm up my elliptical again. I did sit in front of my SAD lamp.
Tried to play rolled-up-magazine swordfight with the kids. The dogs did not like this. They attacked the swords, attacked me, attacked the kids. Bit at the swords and climbed all over us (we were sitting down) and barked like mad. I don’t know if they were trying to participate or telling us to stop. But wave a rolled up magazine at them, and they cower. Wave it at each other, they go nuts. Kind of hilarious really. Corgis taking care of business.
Four or five months ago, my dad had his hip replaced. Again. A couple weeks ago, he dislocated it. Emergency room trip and they put in. He did this while getting his socks. Now you have to understand he’s 83 years old, and most of his back and neck is fused, and he can’t feel the bottoms of his feet or his hands that well. So okay, he somehow planted a foot wrong or twisted wrong and Pop! Then about a week later, when they were going to the Palm Desert to stay for a couple of weeks to help his arthritis, he does it again. This time in the bathroom because he was too impatient (oh yeah, that’s my dad) to wait for the handicap stall. So he dislocates again. Nuther Emergency room trip followed by a very long drive home and now he has a brace he refuses to wear at home. Because, yanno, he doesn’t do this sort of thing at home *eyeroll*. So my recommendation for mom is to duct tape the brace to him and no longer allow him to wear underwear and socks. (The underwear because when I blew my back out the worst, I did it putting on underwear and what good is experience if you can’t foist it on someone else?) She isn’t taking my advice. Not even with the duct tape.
There you go, random family story for your Saturday night. Now go forth and be extra careful with all your undergarments, but especially socks and underwear.