Time out

by The Philosophical Fish

Pain does not build character, at least I don’t think so. If it does, then I must have one hell of a character. I have suffered cyclical sciatic for most of my adult life. It’s not predictable, but when it does come on there is an association that gives me hope that it will eventually disappear, when another predictable cyclical event eventually ceases.

Until then, when it hits, I suffer agonizing pain that leaves me exhausted because sleep is virtually impossible for at least a few days of the event. I try the hot water bottle, and when it gets bad enough I resort to drugs. Often neither really help.

It sucks.

On the upside, a new desk arrived yesterday and Kirk spent an hour or so putting it together for me. It is SO much better than the circa 1950 desk I have been using since the work from home ruling came down. And it looks relatively nice too. I never intended to have a desk on the main floor, but it is what it is.

Gizmo was a horrible monster a couple of days ago and I finally think I’ve solved that problem too. I think the majority of his issue when he gets out of hand is that he knows I am there, but I’m just out of visual range. So I’ve taken to rolling his cage out and to a spot where he can see me while we coexist during work hours. Two days in and it seems to be working. Either that or he is still tuckered out after eight hours of yelling two days ago.

So today, when the work was put away, we had to do something with the old desk. It’s an antique that I took from Mom’s house when she died, and I’m not ready to part with it. If there is any chance we may move in the not so distant future, then I can see using it for other purposes. It’s a nice piece if refinished.

Kirk managed to find room for it under the stairs, but the little-monster-with-feathers gets overexcited when we are “doing stuff!!” and, at some point in the reorganization, he launched and flew across the room. Usually that ends with a crash landing somewhere (he’s not really good at the flying thing and, since he’s turned to feather plucking in the past few months, he probably doesn’t have great lift at the moment), but he managed an exceptional landing n the kitchen counter today. We left him there for a bit and he jogged after Kirk every time he walked past.

Eventually though, we had to move some larger things and he was getting overly excited again, so behind bars he went for a little “Gizmo-time-out”.

Life with a small parrot…it’s never dull.

There are definitely days that I miss dull though.

Behind Bars.... (191/365)

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