The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly (see first pic)

Let's start with the bad news this week. First, very few people showed up to volleyball this week. This was disappointing as we FINALLY HAVE A KEY (#squeakywheel), but I am sure it is a result of last week when a bunch of people came and we couldn't get in. 

The worst picture of me. 

Second, I have been trying to get new contacts since LAST DECEMBER. I had to start the process over in June when I got on new insurance. I finally got a new prescription nailed down and now they're saying that the contacts I ordered (which were set to arrive on Tuesday) WILL NOW BE A MONTH LATE. So I woke up early Friday and was set to go to basketball before I realized I would be able to see NOTHING. Now in the market for black market lasic surgery. #dontspilltheOJ

Dang monsoons. 

Thirdly, my car got stuck in the mud, so I missed a few patients and was mad all day Wednesday. AAA came to pull me out, I got a cheap(ISH) car wash, and I'm no worse for the wear. But this makes me really want to buy a vehicle with higher clearance. 

Colors of Flagstaff.

The GOOD news. I have a job I enjoy. My mental, physical, spiritual, hormonal, and whatever categories of wellbeing is getting there. And I saw Roger once. In talking of traditions, I told him we could have a tradition where the fam goes hunting every opening day of deer season. He loved that idea. He did NOT love the idea of a Christmas Eve book exchange. He just doesn't like opening presents early, but he IS reading (listening) to books now, which I love. 

My job is to photograph. And stay down.

In the Spirit of Tradition, I went hunting with him on opening day. It consisted of us waking up at 3:30, driving for 30minutes to a super secret hunting spot, hiking with heavy packs in the DARK through the woods, setting up in a homemade blind, sitting in the freezing cold, and silently waiting for the deer to show up. Rog actually took a shot once, but was unsuccessful. 

Looking less and less like a hobo. 

Flag is crazy since in-person school starts this week. So we went to Page. Also because Stu was giving his farewell talk and his sisters "needed" someone to play the piano for their musical number. Which I agreed to with the stipulation that I could play it as fast as I wanted. Which is the ONLY way to make Hymn #152 not sound like a funeral dirge. There were enough people crying already. 

Tricked Roger into cutting my hair by doing it myself first. Badly.