Since I often share my sorrows it's only fair I share my good times.
I got up, and I felt pretty good. I went to the rehab gym, had a good workout, and felt pretty good. Came home, did knitting circle, got tired, but still felt pretty good. Did therapy, came home, had a really tasty dinner (made by John), watched a little telly, did a little work here, and went to bed still feeling pretty good.
Yesterday I had a good day. Just a plain old good day. I cannot tell you the last time I had a good day. I'm almost afraid to jinx it. Perhaps--just perhaps--I'm turning a corner.
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