One of the things about going up in a condor is that familiarity breeds, well, comfort – or the lack of discomfort as the case may be.
Even thought I’m not afraid of heights, being 50 or 60 (or 70 0r 80) feet up in the air takes some getting used to, and when I haven’t been up in said condor for six months (or so – I can’t remember the last time I went up so it may have been longer) it’s a bit alarming.
So Wednesday night found me a bit uneasy, but thankfully it didn’t last. By the time my co-workers got around to teasing me, I was over it .
The condor day was good (and once again with a crew that I really, really like), as it meant that I kept off the foot for most of the night, so I was good to go for a second day of work on Friday – where we did day exterior all day and didn’t do much, but I did stand too much.
Still, today everything feels good enough that I’m going to go to the gym to try and burn off yesterday’s crafty (mmmm… bacon).
Oh, and happy ‘Talk Like a Pirate Day’. Arrrrrgh.
And Chuck’s out of the ICU, although presumably still not talking like a pirate. Next year, Chuck. Next year.