Richmond, biz

People, today felt like four. Ol crawled into our bed at 5:37am, eager for morning snuggle and to chat. I tried to hush him until 6, but as you can imagine, it didn't work terribly well. What a cute little bug he is. Good thing, too! My post-drop off morning commenced with a couple hours at the orthopedist because of nearly two months of a very sore tailbone. I'd nearly convinced my generally-NOT-hypochondriac self that something dreadful was eating away at my coccyx, so eagerly assented to X-rays to prove otherwise. This was all well and good until, during the sit down with the kindly doc who I'd not met before this morning, I asked "What is THAT?" as I scanned one of the images. It was a rather large dark spot and just didn't look right. Immediately, doc replied "kaka," and I literally felt as if I'd die of mortification. Not least because he used the word "kaka." In later relaying this story to one of my best friends, her primary take-away was "Your doctor said KAKA???!!!"

Exactly. I've just recently stopped wincing. Though I am now the "proud" owner of a Tush Cush. Jesus.

I then made more jam, ran errands, packed, cleaned, left little Pokemon-themed surprises and love notes for all my boys (well, no Pokemon for T, and doesn't he love me more for that!) and hauled it out of the house when the sitter arrived in a vain attempt to beat rush hour traffic on 95S. I did not remotely beat it, but still, I like a good road trip so turned on a fabulous playlist and went for it. It is a vastly different experience to be alone in the car and stuck in traffic than with young children in the car while stuck in traffic. No complaints!

Just before 8, I pulled up at The Black Sheep, happy to have waited out the trip for a good dinner as my reward at the end. I ordered green goddess potato salad, the same arugula/fennel/spiced pecan/hibiscus dressing salad I got two weeks ago, a glass of white wine and later, rum-spiked banana pudding with lady fingers. Solid, friends. Extremely solid.

I used to die over the mere thought of eating at a restaurant alone. I cringed for the solo diners I saw, certain they were terribly lonely and there alone only as a last resort so as to avoid another bowl of instant Ramen in their studio apartments. I see now the complete folly in my assumptions because in fact, dining alone needn't be lonely or dreary in the least. It can be extraordinarily lovely in the quiet calm that is time with one's self. And a good magazine makes things all the better. I myself brought along a crossword puzzle in eager anticipation of no one attempting to fill in slots while I wasn't looking. Hah!

One of the clues was: malarkey. Isn't that a wonderful word?!

I'm off to bed, eager for a full day o' symposiuming tomorrow!