"Why don't you try stretching it?"
I rolled my eyes. "That just works your thigh," I said. I kept walking to Victoria Street, trying not to complain too much more. At the lights, I did tentatively grab my foot and attempt a stretch, and it felt good, but I am sure it did my knee no good.
Oh how boring it is to have a knee that is not getting better. I thought it would have by now, but it hasn't. I don't know what I did to it, nothing specific. I'll have to go to my GP, who will have to send me to some knee guy, I presume, who will have to send me to get an x-ray, or something equally as boring. Oh, annoying. I read that knees were the most common joint injury, it is a thrill to be so common.
We ate Pho. We chose the wrong Pho shop and it wasn't so good. As nice as it could be. Oh well. You live and learn, hey. It is not so important.
We shopped at the Hive for groceries. Or, at least, Sam shopped and I sat at a table rubbing my knee.
The druggies were out in force, with their toothless smiles and their looks of fear, or was that concentration, as they rushed to somewhere, bare-foot, chewing.
One of them insisted he got the wrong change for his purchase, which cost $5.50 for which he swore he gave the girl on the register two fifty dollar notes. Which made no sense. The girl he couldn't identify, despite the girls on the cash registers having worked all day, which also made no sense. The boss was very patient, and the guy was clearly off his chops.
And we made wantons at the kitchen bench for chicken soup for diner for the coming cold night when we got home, which we ate for diner.
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