Jeff's back was killing him this weekend. He chose to treat it with heat, whiskey, and weird positions, like so:
So, when not studying or procrastinating about studying or playing Anarchy in bookstore cafes with our friends, I took advantage of his immobility to practice starting two IVs on him. (Did I mention that Jeff is a long suffering victim of my quest to learn new skills?) It was not in vain (so tempted to insert pun there) as I was officially signed off on my IV skills this morning.
We also saw The Last King Of Scotland, a wonderful and horrible film. Forrest Whitaker is as good as everyone says, and Africa looks beautiful and scary as hell. In other news I continue to sleep 10 hours a day, instead of my usual five-ish, and not out of some new resolution to start getting more sleep but because, for the love of everything holy, I just can't stay awake. I think my body is starting to protest the last two years of abuse. And the lack of caffeine. I miss caffeine.