Commander in Chief

(Again, on an unrelated matter: I need cable. Daytime TV is a punishment for those who don't have cable. Soap operas are not my thing, so I'm forced to have court TV shows on (I need background noise). A female plaintiff on one of these shows just said, "I sign-DED the apartment lease." I thought, "She should go to jail just for murdering the English language." But a moment later, when the judge asked the defendant why he never helped pay rent for an apartment he shared with the woman, the defendant answered, "I was under the influence that the money was in our joint account." Considering his glazed eyes, I believe he was "under the influence.")

Yesterday, for the second time in three years, I cancelled a class. I'm the duty-loving sort, so I never skip out on a class if I can help it (the last time I did was due to a car accident). I didn't go to church last night, either. Why? Because there's a new sheriff in town. Hail to Baby Dowdel, Commander in Chief!

For two days, I've felt like I've had a football-type injury. My inner thigh feels like I've pulled it out of place. I tried rubbing the muscles, but the pain seems to be coming from my pelvis (the bone) or looseness in the joints. I called my doc, and the nurse told me to lay down for the rest of the day and take a pain reliever. So, I cancelled my class and stayed in the rest of the night.

Baby Dowdel's reaction to us staying home? He/she kicked joyfully and rolled around in my belly. Not exactly the penitent actions I had hoped for, but it's hard to tell the big cheese what to do when you're only the maidservant.