It’s been a week of a niggling health worries. Not me, others. I worry that Arwen is coping with her grandfather’s death. I worry about several friends on my Flickr group: Beff’s been readmitted to hospital after her ileostomy wound got infected, Madge is feeling really low and her lupus is acting up. Dinx was in bed all day yesterday, and Lindsay’s freaked about her mother coming to visit.
Yesterday I also exaggerated somewhat. I told a student that I could speak French. And then he asked me the alphabet in French. And I had to call Beth to make sure, because I totally forgot some letters. I remembered ‘y’ sounded like a water bird, but I couldn’t remember which one. Egret. That’s it. Thanks, Beth!
Also, I didn’t go to belly dancing last night: Too lazy. Instead, I went home, drank wine and ate chips. Y’know. The complete antithesis to anything healthy.
Meh. Anyone else feel a vague sense of guilt hovering over their shoulders?