Diss Con 3 - The Stern, Invisible Eyebrows of Doom

Blood this morning was 6.3 - understandable given the pizza (and, actually, the frozen yoghurt) from last night.

The thing about email is that you can never normally sense what someone's eyebrows are doing, and so you lose a large part of the context they mean to convey.

Not so, I have to say, the email from my wife this afternoon.

"Seriously, get out of your own head NOW.  This is as bad as I’ve seen you in a while and if need by I WILL take the scales and lock them up – I mean it..."

Now, she wasn't insisting, as perhaps it might seem, that I should drink a couple of bottles of vodka. She was suggesting that I stop thinking so hard.

This is a thing she tells me to do from time to time. I'm quite at a loss as to how one would accomplish such a thing - although, thinking about it (as I'm damned to do!), probably the couple of bottles of vodka would be a promising start.

You see, she'd asked me how I was doing with the not-walking I was forced to do (damn you, blisters! Damn you all the way to flesh-Hell!). I told her about how I'd weighed yesterday, and then weighed again today, and had put on a couple of pounds overnight.

Hence the advice to get out of my head. Hence the threat of Nazi-kidnap. Hence the subtle implication of incipient insanity.

The thing is, I'm really not as bad as all that. I tried to bike this morning, couldn't without irritating the blisters, got off. Yes, technically, could have done an upper body gym session or a swim. Didn't - got on with some wotk...y'know, having a day-job and all that. Not going to bike tonight either...so, nehh.

Tomorrow is another day. The ten-mile walk is clearly up the spout, frankly, and there is Stuff to do here. You may or may not remember the work we have to do, preparatory to the arrival of a fridge-freezer? Actually, I've since been reminded it's not a fridge-freezer, but a fridge-and-freezer...big chest freezer thing, as well as a more standard straight up-and-a-downer. There remains Much To Do - reclamation of the bedroom from the boxes that remain unopened since we arrived....shifting of kitchen furniture into the living room...undoubtedly dropping at least one atom-bomb of effort on the office...

So this will be us this weekend - navvies in the service of our own sliding-puzzlement. That's got to be worth a day of blister-recovery anyday, I'd say.