It’s been a “barely” couple of weeks. Barely faking my way through at work, barely holding down the fort at home, barely keeping my sanity. You know, the usual. But the biggest “barely” happened a little over a week ago. If you’re in the Seattle area, you probably heard about the huge tie up on I-5 when a motorcyclist slammed into the back of a parked ambulance. The guy on the motorcycle was a good friend of mine, and somehow he ended up making it out ok. Barely. Many parts of him are broken, but the really important parts are just fine. I don’t know how he managed to avoid serious or life-threatening injuries, but I’m glad. Cody has a super goofy, infectious laugh and some really nice tattoos and I wouldn’t mind keeping him around for a bit longer.

A few days ago they transferred him from the big, scary hospital to a mellow, slightly pungent rehab facility. Since I had the day off, and since I was in desperate need of an outing after watching 27 Dresses last night and plunging into a deep depression because there will never be a sexy, disheveled journalist who tells me I deserve to be taken care of and who brings me coffee after a night of crazy drunk sex in a broken down car, I decided I’d drop in for a visit. Both of Cody’s arms and one of his legs are in casts, so we spent most of the afternoon in his room (I didn’t want to venture far for fear of accidentally losing him or encountering some sort of runaway wheelchair situation). I fed him grapes and read to him from I Feel Bad About My Neck. We had a lovely visit. My favorite part of the facility was the signboard in the recreation room that listed everything you need to know about the present moment:

The date is: June 11th.
The year is: 2009
Today is: Thursday
The weather outside is: Sunny

Clearly, updating the board isn’t on the staff’s list of top priorities, but I choose to think that they’re secretly conducting some sort of psychological experiment. The next time I visit, I’m hoping the sign will say:

The date is: January 13th.
The year is: 1981
Today is: Tuesday
The weather outside is: Cloudy

and that all the residents will be gathered in the rec room discussing last night’s Dynasty premiere and also their deep devotion to Jell-O Pudding Pops.

My other favorite part was the old man whose wheelchair was parked in the hallway. He was clad in sweats and maybe drooling a little bit and he gave me a hearty applause as I walked past. He’s no disheveled journalist, but I’ll still take it.

Anyway. All this is to say that somehow (despite a faint undercurrent of insanity and the occasional horrific traffic accident) I and everyone I know are still standing and fighting the good fight and that will never cease to amaze me. I don’t know how we do it, but we do. Barely.