I'm home, and I'm tired, but I'm not feeling the overwhelming fatigue that I thought I might. Julie drove Florence and me to the salon, a tiny but charming Victorian place where I sat on a "throne" while a lovely young woman cut my toenails, massaged my feet and legs, and polished my toenails a lovely shade of deep reddish pink (very similar to the polish I have on my fingernails). Instead of a whirlpool footbath, my feet got soaked in a copper tub filled with warm water and marbles.
When Julie dropped us off, I had to cross the street, and I walked holding onto Florence and feeling very shaky. But when we left, Julie said that the car was around the corner, and I decided I could walk to it, which I did, very slowly, stopping to rest a few times; it was a lot further than the distance I walked yesterday.
When I checked my calendar earlier, I was surprised that my acupuncture appointment with Anne was for tomorrow (I had remembered it as Wednesday, as it was last week). She will be here at noon, and the Boston Globe reporter is coming at one thirty, so I should be feeling nice and relaxed when she is here.