Frazzled

First, the bike goes to the shop for a once-over tuneup and regreasing.  I’m going to get back in the saddle this summer.

Meanwhile, I’ve gotten my schedule for the first of 2 summer classes—Information Systems.  I “only” have to read 20 chapters, plus 7 case studies, plus a book (with report due at the end of June), by July 2.  That’s all.  No big deal.

Also, my dog hurt himself and I’ve been struggling with the potential of a “worst case” diagnosis.  It seems he’s hurt his neck somehow, possibly a strained muscle, possibly a slipped or bulging disk.  If it’s just a strain he’ll get better with rest over a few days.  If it’s the other, however, we’re talking surgery and the need for a very, very hard decision.  A decision I don’t want to have to make.

Sigh.

 

So, Rusty was in his kennel yesterday morning because doctor’s orders are for STRICT confinement through the weekend.  No activity at all, if possible.  Walks out back, but only long enough to take care of business.  My sweet, sweet son sees “dog-dog” in the kennel, clearly looking hurt and sad, looks up at me with a questioning look on his face to which I respond “dog-dog is hurt and can’t come out”, and the boy begins crying.  That boy is a pretty clever boy.  He comes home that evening telling us “dog-dog bobo”.  Yes, dog dog has a bobo.  Daddy is very worried.

 

But the beat goes on, da da dum de dum dum…