Jackpot!

Jackpot, yahtzee, bingo & a royal flush all at once!!! This is too good to be true. There I was, minding my own business (while keeping a hawk eye out in the corridor, mind you, in case something walks by) and what happens? All the deities in the word must have focused their glory rays on my little mat there in that moment for in walks CJ with a patient to the treadmill. And he remains there with this patient for appr. 10 minuters, intending to analyse her running step. But he can't get the computer working! So the time for me to glare is extended, and extended...Of course also listening to their conversation.

So there I am, thinking myself in ridiculous luck - and somehow somewhere, another pang of Felix Felicis and I hear a voice from the door. I look up. No way. MJ. Tall and fit, wearing a white polo shirt and slightly baggy jeans - and I for the first time heard him speak! As would be expected of such a god - no sign of the stupid farmish accent we have here. He was also with a patient and stayed for 20 minutes or so. Sometimes I wish I worked out in shades because looking in that small small room without being seen is not easy. All the mirrors and the patient's mother hanging around as well? Not an easy task.

CJ and MJ in the same room - at the SAME TIME?! I should buy a lottery ticket.

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