In a good way, let me assure you. All is well-er than I imagined possible three weeks ago on the eve of surgery number two.
I managed to move out of my tiny apartamento and made it (barely, $70 cab ride later) to the airport on the way to Michigan. I sat on the plane next to the officially most adorable family in the world, specifically next to a little girl who told me about the "fweckles" on my arm and the "fweckles" on her nose. So cute, with a smile that inspired her older sister to hit her with only the excuse "She SMILED at me!" when parental figures intervened.
We pulled together an open house for my sister, which I helped with more than I ought to have - I almost had to go back to the wrist braces, which I have abandoned almost completely. Yay! My wrists feel better than they have in months. I also got to eat lots of angel food cake and very good ice box cookies. Yum. Oh, and those pastel colored mints with the sprinkles on the bottom. Oh, and Sun Chips. Far more than were good for me.
I am actually getting things done today. I have been in this wireless-available coffee shop for about four hours and I have accomplished so very much, including talking to insurance, talking to IBM customer support (laptop batter is awful), and making various appointments for things like travel shots and cavity fillings. I'm so very proud of my productivity. The only thing I haven't even started is the pile of legal comments that the law journal sent me to read and grade for the journal competition. Bah humbug. I knew I shouldn't have done this journal nonsense. I glance at them, though, and I find myself interested despite myself. I really am interested in law. Bizarrely. Even after this year.
My visa to Liberia arrived via express mail this morning (I paid for the overnighting) and my tickets on Friday (my mom opened them Saturday because they were addressed to her because I used her credit card and she almost threw them away thinking they were a credit card offer, before I snatched them from her hand and started looking gleefully through them). So I'm set. After the International Driving Permit I'm on my way to get.
Liberia has greatly improved their visa, by the way. The one I got in 2000 was a stamp sort of half-legibly stamped onto a page of my passport. Now it's a nice full-color sticker with a Liberian flag and stars around the edge and a seal on it. Go Liberia.
T-minus seven days.