Taking Sam’s advice, I decided to try to do something audacious on my day off. Through a series of lucky confluences, I ended up getting a guided tour of the state museum’s art collection–both the stuff out on the walls and the stuff behind the scenes–guided, in fact, by the guy who collects the art for the state museum. It was amazing.
And I saw the Wessyngton exhibit, which is everything I could have hoped for. I was glad it wasn’t crowded, because it made me very emotional.
I also fucked up my ankle. But it’s okay, I think. I mean, I don’t think it’s broken or sprained. It just feels like, if you can bruise it throughout the joint, it’s bruised throughout the joint. It hurts to put pressure on it, but again, more like it hurts when you touch a bruise, not like when you’re stepping on a sprain.