Workout. Ouch, big mistake.

So it’s an office building, typical of its kind. Desks everywhere, crowds buzzing, and those annoying fluorescent lights burning steadily overhead. In one word, horrid.
Not that it makes a difference what the surroundings look like as I walk through the isles that stretch between the crowded desks that are all ‘round. I have to be there, for some reason that for now I can’t figure out.
I’m dressed in a suit, why I decided to wear such a thing in the first place is another mystery to me while I follow a perky young woman across the busy office floor. Hers is a tight gray skirt topped by a white triped blouse that Vees just a tad too much for her ample bosom, but what the hey, she seems nice enough.
She’s talking to me, but her words don’t register when I get distracted by a couple of men near the wall of glass arguing heatedly. To their left a woman drops her paper cup, sighs and grabs a new one to fill at the water cooler that bubbles in slow motion. Too much noise and movement to my liking, that’s a fact, it makes my head hurt.
I stop, just in the nick of time when the woman leading the way pauses at the door on the other side of the busy space. She turns towards me with a bright smile on her face, her hands gesticulating wildly as she continues to speak. I still can’t hear her, the buzz of the employees like a loud roar in my ears, but I nod to whatever it is she’s telling me, just because that appears to be what she’s waiting for.
Apparently satisfied with my response, she turns away and opens the door, revealing a rather modern executive office with a big desk across the room, stretching out in front of an impressive wall of glass that shows the city outside. Two big indoor plants flank the desk, three expensive designer chairs face it, and a plush couch stretches along the wall right ahead of me.
It’s made of white linen, the fabric roughly weaved and immaculate in the mostly grayish and chrome surroundings. Thick comfortable cushions that will allow the seated to relax a welcoming lure when I enter the office and then stop when a sudden movement draws my attention.
He is standing beside the window, almost completely obscured by one of the large plants, and moves around it to step in full view. I’m astonished to see him here, my mind tumbling while I try to think of a reason why he’s here in the first place, when I don’t even know the reason of my own presence.
He smiles, a bright flash of teeth in tanned features that are so very familiar to me. The sun shines inside through the windows, casting a golden glow through his shortly cropped hair and the stubbles on his jaw. He looks good, healthy, and happy to see me as he rounds the desk and comes heading straight towards me.
“What are you doing here?” I manage to ask, watching somewhat stunned, as he grabs my hands and holds them within his own. He’s about to answer too when noisy grunts and growls awaken me from a deep sleep and force me to open my eyes to see Knight II and Trin Trin tug the quilt off the bed. Drat!

What is it with the dogs disturbing dreams that I really want to have? It feels like genuine cruelty sometimes. Still, that tiny logical part of my brain realizes that they really don’t do it intentionally and I control the urge to scream my frustration. Instead I drag myself out of bed and head for the door to let them outside.

I’m much too tired to get up, and the knee is throbbing like mad, so with a sleep drunk stagger I head back for the bed and doze off for another thirty minutes with the faint hope that I’ll be able to get back to the dream. I can’t of course, but still, I got those extra thirty minutes. Yay.

After the morning hasty rituals and another search through the dirt around the porch for the key that got lost during the release of the dogs, I head for the house.
No laundry today I’m glad to find, and after depositing my bag on the counter and putting chicken to broil on the stove I decide to do a few minor workout exercises.

Big mistake! While working on the upper body I somehow manage to make a wrong movement with my leg to keep proper balance and feel the joint creak and grind as a painful stab slashes through it. Oh wow! If only I could describe that particular sensation in detail for a book, it would be grand for a torture scene, hah.

But anyway, after that particular disaster, I only manage a few more exercises, half of which I perform seated on the floor with the weights in my hands. That done, I hobble to the kitchen to prepare Yadzia’s breakfast with the freshly boiled chicken. The poor Labrador is decidedly uncomfortable since last night. The vet had warned that that injection he got during our last visit only worked for five to six days, but apparently for Yadzia it is shorter than that.

During the night he was shivering with pain, looking up at me miserably until I disobeyed the doctor’s orders and gave him a fraction of a painkiller, just so he’d make it through the night feeling remotely comfortable. It worked, up to a point, since he didn’t cry at least. He does walk stiffly into the pantry, bravely wagging his tail and digging into his meal while I smack the other dogs on the butts to get them out of the room.

After putting on coffee and eating my own breakfast in the company of big brother and grandpa, I set up the computer and quickly get to work on the editing project.
The knee’s acting up somewhat fierce, so while I pop a couple of painkiller, I prop a bag of frozen peas on the joint and settle in for the long haul.
All in all it goes pretty well and nearing the end of our work time we’ve finished a total of fifteen pages, which now read pretty well.

Yadzia has his appointment today, so as the day progresses I take him up the mountain towards the car and head for the vet hospital.
Once there he gets the injection he needs for his back problem, and the vet informs me that if there is no improvement after this last injection, all that can be done for him are pills, which I can give him if he gets too uncomfortable. I do hope that there’s an improvement, because if there isn’t, I will have to make that awful decision of having him put out of his misery, something that I’d really like to postpone for as long as possible.

By the time we return–Yadzia is already feeling better with the effects of the medicine he got– little brother is preparing dinner. I’m pretty glad that I don’t need to worry about that, and the evening progresses peacefully for the remainder of the evening.
Such a pity that I don’t have anything really interesting to report on today, but I guess it is just that time of the year.

In the end, I head for my cabin, Yadzia following slowly behind feeling decidedly better, and eats the meal I put before him as I try to keep the other dogs at bay. At last a rather painful day all ‘round has come to an end. Thankfully.