My head is still pounding from the noise, and the dye they put in my arm stings still. They put the radio on for me, because I thought it was preferable to headphones, but then one of the two songs in the whole entire world guaranteed to make me cry came on the radio, so I kept thinking, "Shut up, Chrissie, shut up," at the radio and sniveling and not moving my head.
And then I found out I didn't have my credit card; turns out I'd left it at the restaurant last night, and they have it safe for me to pick up after supper. Whew.
This is not what we call the best afternoon ever. But it could have been worse; I could have gotten home from Cub to find out the doctor had already called with bad news, instead of the likelihood of none.
markgritter is walking Ista, and I'm going to start dinner, and maybe I'll have a little more energy after that.