Spleen

Looking out for the Drs. and their consorts
Venting one's spleen (even if a teeny leetle one) like yesterday's leetle rant is so good for one. It clears the choleric and refreshes the vapours. A good night's sleep also helps, as does telling the megalomaniac where to go, and the not hearing back from him - at least not for now.

The good Drs. J and C, with their respective consorts, met the parents last night. The occasion was fraught with tension because there was a question of stock not melting fast enough, not frozen rice pellets falling apart in the right, soft, velvety way. Then we had a brainwave and opened up the bottle of rotting tofu, and such was the miasma of odour that it drove all else out of everyone's mind. See, we can be sneaky when we have to be.

The night was warm, almost humid for Vancouver, but with a fan, sadly, not a Dyson - yet anyway - blowing away, the temperatures were bearable and one slept well finally. That makes a big difference, being able to sleep and wake up refreshed. The pores of the face even close when that happens. This was how sleepy and tired I was yesterday - I fell asleep (second time ever) while I, the replacement for the efficient and brisk T, picked away at my teeth with stainless steel picks prior to Dr. K coming over to mutter at the state of my teeth and talk about crowns.

Golden doesn't mean clear and sharply focused pictures
Monday - was a slightly golden day mostly because one put one's hand to one's forehead with the palm facing out and walked along an imagined path and dipped where there should be a step down, but really was none. There was no scheming, nor manipulation involved in this which meant that I passed the first agreement with flying colours, and when you pass the first agreement with such high scores, you can't help but score high on the remaining three agreements. That was an entertaining evening and I've been proved wrong - legs are not good enough, one must have floating. That will be another project to look at. Another life hack - or maybe I shall just take the easy way out and move it.

The state of the mind reflects the state of the perch
Why, perched out here on my blue high chair, surveying my fiefdom, the world is right with me and none shall lose their head unlike how Elizabeth Rex, poor ducks, ordered the removal of Essex's then bitterly regretted it. Imagine - choosing between your true love, and duty to a country. Which would you have chosen, and how would you have chosen and passed the four agreements?

Goodness. I'm in a good mood today. How strange. Not that strange really because things have gelled, have come together, have settled and I know what the essence is and once you know all this, you can proceed with the delete button with impunity.