Bad luck comes in threes, according to tradition. So far we're up to two.
1. Felix generously shared his illness with me. It's not a cold, more of a bone ache lethargy. He's been home since Monday with it, so I'm a bit worried about how bad I'm going to feel in a few hours.
2. My visit to the dentist yesterday resulted in an ultimatum: root canal or extraction. Unsurprisingly, I'm going with extraction tomorrow. The one word you never want to hear from your dentist? Necrosis. Dr Les and I agreed that it's awful, but very interesting.
I'm fairly nervous about what number three is going to be now. So instead I shall sit on the couch and finish off the arms of Dot's cardigan, followed by the fingers of my Hands of Cerise glove. If I don't move, nothing bad can happen, right?