Knee Update

After I got up and started moving around this morning, my knee felt good-as-new. What a relief. That is, until I was at a different client's office this afternoon and I squatted down to look in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. Usually, I just bend over with my butt in the air, but since, a) I was wearing a skirt and b) the owner's husband had stopped by to help with something, I did the ladylike thing and squatted down. And the not-so-ladylike thing of sprawling out on my butt when my knee buckled. Just like yesterday, though, it was my good fortune that no one saw me. The funny thing is that my client, her husband and their accountant (the one they stole from me) were four feet away with their backs to me. They were glued to the computer monitor while they were on a conference call. So once again, I picked myself up and went on about my business. And once again, it didn't hurt, thankfully.

When I got home, I was famished. It was 4:30, so it was time to feed The Daddler, but I couldn't bear the thought of cooking. Especially since Sarita won't be here tomorrow to clean up. Besides, that's my optimum time of day for running and since I figured it would be stupid to run with my bum knee, eating seemed like the natural alternative. So I asked The D if he wanted to go to Houston's for an early dinner. Here's the convo:

Me - Daddy, do you wanna go to Houston's for dinner?
D - What?
Me - Do you wanna go to Houston's for dinner?
D - What?
Me (louder) - Houston's.
Me (even louder) - Dinner. At. Houston's.
D (with scowl on face) - No.
Me - Let's go. I don't feel like fixing supper.
D - That's ok. You don't have to.
Me - You have to eat something. And I'm hungry, too.
D - No.
Me - Come on, Daddy. Please. I'm hungry.
D - No.
Me - Please. I don't have anyone else to go with. Come on.
Me - Please.
D - Where?
Me - Houston's. It's good. You'll love it.

I stood there with bated breath until he acquiesced. I called Deb on the way and left a message for her to meet us if she left work in time. Halfway through our meal, he asked me if I'd heard from her. Nope. I tried to make conversation, but it's hard. So I just sat and looked at all the beautiful waiters and waitresses. My god. They all looked like models. I felt like I was in the middle of a big Ralph Lauren runway show.

Every one of them had beautiful skin, perfect teeth, shy smiles and sparkling eyes. Each black outfit was perfectly tailored to fit the lithe body it attired. They moved elegantly across the room and made pouring water and fetching empty plates and glasses seem glamourous. A stark contrast to my bumbling, completely unintentional imitation of Chevy Chase in the early days of SNL.

So here I sit. Back to reality. I have major shit to do before my work week ends after my 11:00 a.m. client meeting tomorrow.

FF just called to say goodnight. The man loves his sleep. On that note, I'd better get moving if I want to get to bed at all tonight. Stay tuned for my latest (mis)adventure...