Ottoman Empire

          The first thing I did this morning was streeeeeeeetch my body out as long as possible. The very next thing I did was feel a shearing pain in my calf, and I limped around for the rest of the day. In an frustrating twist, I tried to get up early, failed that, and ended up being late. Truly, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. My boss finally talked to me about my tardiness, though it was more of a gentle course correction than a lecture. ("Why don't you take it easy with the lunch-hour overtime until you're settled?") I just put my nose to the grindstone and got a lot of work done. I also got conned into opening a Citizens Bank account, which I'd been mulling over but never had the initiative to complete. (They told me there would be a charge to do the petty cash unless I had an account, since the check was made out to me.) Regardless, I felt a little duped when I returned to work and the controller, Diane, flew into a rage at the bank -- there should have been a letter on file for me, or something. I did want to make an account, but I didn't love the feeling of some bank manager getting over on me.
          After work, I went home to listen to hockey. The Flyers got owned 4-0 by the Maple Leafs to the tune of commentators who couldn't go two minutes without talking about William Nylander, the Jackets put Pittsburgh on blast in a 2-0 shutout, and Montreal shanked the Bruins in a 3-2 comeback. I put up the first set of posters in my room (four of last year's hockey/basketball/volleyball schedules), cleaned house, and cleared off the big ottoman thing. (Shortly before the move, Alaric and I found a comfy piece of furniture that resembles an ottoman, but that word doesn't quite describe it -- it's olive green and roughly armchair-sized.) Alaric needed to forget the Flyers' performance, so we went to Tasty Burger with Nathan and got takeout. We sat at a picnic table while the food was prepared, and were joined by two of the most ratchet women I have ever met. Honestly, they would not have been out of place as backups for Nicki Minaj, except minus any positive attributes. They also asked Nathan if he smoked crack and heroin, and spoke in English so broken that it's a wonder they can function in society. The Kahuna Burger was worth all that.