my friend Shawn and my mortal enemy Sarkozy

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Just a few more days of physiotherapy for me.

I didn’t feel quite there yet. My back was better, yes. But it wasn’t 100% fine. I figured it didn’t need much more therapy, it just needed time. And I wasn’t supposed to lift heavily.

So I went and had a nice club sandwich:

Then I had a staring contest with Sarkozy the cat:

I suffered defeat. And not just simple defeat. He destroyed me easily. It was terrible.

So I went back to my room in order to regain my strength. Luckily, my roomie was there, too. His name was Shawn:

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I told him about my enemy Sarkozy. Shawn didn’t say anything, though.
He was a quiet fellow.