Sore Hand Massage

(No, that's not really a massage.)

I didn't get a massage today, because I wasn't feeling so well. The Indian food that went in SOOO delightfully came back out quite painfully throughout the night. In the morning I awoke feeling rather beat up and still ill at ease. I ate tentatively most of the day and so far so good, but I didn't want to be in the middle of a massage and have to make a mad dash for the bathroom.

In spite of feeling sickly, I had a great four-hour skype chat with my family this morning. That's right, FOUR hours.

I did manage to get the rest of the cutting finished for my Christmas cards, though. Using an exacto knife for a few hours can leave fingers a bit blistered, and hand muscles sore. Maybe I'll get my Mr. to give me a sore hand massage before bed.

So, now we're sitting in the lounge, drinking happy-hour-priced drinks for supper. (Neither of us is very hungry, and I hear gin and tonics are a great cure for upset stomachs.) Besides, there's always room service if we get hungry later.

The lounge singer is consistently flat, which is distressing. I think we're going to call it an early night. He says "thank you" after every song, even though no one is clapping.

Happy eleven/eleven/eleven, by the way. Too bad to be feeling poorly on such an auspicious day. Celebrate it well!