Hello there, where does the time go? March crept up on me and before I blink-BAM, I am two weeks into the month before I post again. I'm at the point that if I say, "Every day, I get better and better," I recognize it as an over used line. I am making progress, but its not as evident as a trip home from the hospital, or a definate date as to when I will return to work. Alas, those signs are not posted on the road I have been traveling.

I am driving in a limited fashion and enjoy the freedom. While many of my previous adult activities have been curbed, because of my injury, this is not how I envisioned my midlife crisis. A red sports car or a mink lined bomber jacket would definately be way more cool. Forget an affair with a young pool boy, and an unexpected trip to New York for a new wardrobe; I have more practical skills I need to sharpen.

I continue to shop for groceries, not nail polish, because it is what needs to be done. I have also been cooking dinner on a regular basis. I have come to the conclusion that I will never compete with the food channel chefs on the basis of variety and complexity. The girls found out right away that there's no way I am Wendy's, Taco Bell, or Dominos, so they might find themselves Head Cook one or two nights a week in our house very soon.

Laundry continues to be repeat offender for jobs that I am in charge of, and alas, there always seems to be enough of it. I continue to envision my time at home as simular to an enforced summer vacation, as Iam healthy, have my mobility and have yet to display altimers. Did I mention that I don't have much patience? My determination has yet to put me where I would like to be. I am ever hopeful that my doctor will soon be under my spell of, "yes, I am competent," and sign my release.