My presence has been requested this week at my Physical Therapist's (PT) office. She requested that I come in and pay her a visit. I'm quite lovable and therefore....she misses me. She can't live without me---even though I just saw her at her son's basketball game a couple of weeks ago. WARNING WARNING: Kenzie is a legal, addictive stimulant. Taking any amount of her with any regularity or irregularity may cause permanent and possibly excessive use. (She's also very humble.)
So, I have an unofficial (as in, uninsured) appointment this week at a place I used to frequent thrice weekly just to be able to move my left arm and function as a semi-normal two-armed human whose left hand is not in a permanent fist--anymore.
What is so unusual about this, you ask? Of course she wants to see me. Of course she'll figure out a way to get around my uninsured health insurance status. Of course, of course, of course.
Well, yes. Of course. But her final request for said visit: "Bring your guitar."
Excuse me, huh?
After, first, checking to make sure she was, indeed, serious and, second, receiving corroboration that this was not an elaborate hoax to get me to perform at an office birthday party, I agreed.
Me and my guitar will be rockin' out with Julia later this week. Intrigued? Me too......but I know something you don't know.
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