perfect timing

Every so often, events conspire to work out perfectly. Usually, it happens in a Murphy's Law, "ironic" kind of way: rain on your wedding day and all that. Today turned out to be the opposite of that: a perfect example of perfect timing.
I had to have minor gum surgery last night. It was a local-anesthetic-only kind of thing, uncomfortable and squick-y, but not serious. I distracted myself by planning cables for my next sweater project. (You know you knit too much when . . . )
Now, this was my third go-round with gum surgery (the others were in my braces-wearing, wisdom-teeth-getting days), so you'd think I'd have learned that oral surgeons are lying liars. When they say, "Oh, yeah, you'll be able to go to work the next day", what they mean is "Prepare to spend the next three days whimpering on the couch, dribbling soup down the front of your pajamas." Oh, and "a little sore" is code for "eating anything more firm than applesauce will be impossible. Just give it up."
Fortunately, the weather cooperated with my stunningly miserable mood by being freezing cold, windy, and rainy/snowy. I snuggled on the couch wrapped in blankets, knitting and watching flurries blow by. And dribbling soup down the front of my pajamas.

Oh, also, if you have your own run-in with gum surgery, learn from my fail: don't eat really salty soup. Just don't.