Walking it off

I missed an appointment today.  Totally my own fault.  Partly I was distracted because our extended health medical insurance finally paid off on what they initially called a "death benefit," and then told me it wasn't actually a death benefit, but then wouldn't tell me what death expenses would be covered by it, so I bundled up roughly $8,000 of the $10,000 in expenses (honestly, who can afford to die these days?), and finally today they sent me a terse "statement" that seems to have accepted roughly $7,000 of what I submitted, which well exceeded the limit for whatever it is that *isn't* a death benefit, and included a cheque.

So, since I seem to be taking every possible excuse *not* to do the taxes, I decided I needed to go for a walk to the bank (which I'm going to be at tomorrow anyway to try and deal with now in excess of a dozen issues that I am not very happy about) to deposit the cheque, and, by the time I remembered that I had this appointment (which I had noted this morning, and planned to keep), I was too far away to get back for the appointment.

Walking seems to be my only comfort these days.  If I am restless, or unsettled, or just bored, my default seems to have become to go for a walk.  I don't know why it's comforting.  (I mean, yesterday, when I did a round trip to Queensborough, walking back over the Alex Fraser in the wind and the rain was definitely *NOT* comforting.  I got back, took everything out of my pockets, dumped all my clothes into the dryer, and got into a hot bath to soak my aged and aching bones and also warm up.)  Since Kintec has delivered on getting me some decent shoes, I am stress testing them.  I did sixteen kilometres yesterday, and thirteen this morning, and then added another four and a half going to the bank this afternoon.  I have pretty much taped the wet weather route to the one, lone remaining Safeway, which is probably going to become a weekly start to OGCM.

Maybe I'm just avoiding doing the taxes.