Getting all hot and bothered reading True Blood slash when your husband creature is away for at least another three weeks does seem rather masochistic. Just sayin'. Go sit quietly and knit or something.

Also, sort out the damn early-waking shit. You're getting careless in your tiredness. Dislocating both IP joints in your little finger while ( Read more... )

I've found my silver lining: I didn't twist, sprain, strain or otherwise damage my ankles in any of yesterdays misadventures! This is doubly surprising as I was only wearing ballet flats, them being easier to remove at the physio's ( Read more... )

The little fall on the bus this afternoon is making its presence felt more and more loudly as the hours wear on. So far, Most Painful Peripheral will be played by Christ My Bloody Shoulder, to be understudied by Holy Shit My Knees. The part of the villain shall be taken by That Gorram Hip ( Read more... )

Packing Party is off. Turns out I can't even read my own bloody journal correctly and set out for my physio appointment an hour late. So when that was discovered I just got on the bus and came back to Sin Park, the better to beat myself up. (Kinda literally, I managed to mistime standing up on one of the buses - just as he hit the brakes ... ( Read more... )

Pardonez moi, mais qu'est-ce que le FUCK happened last night? How, in the intervening four years, has Australia not managed to perfect the hoodoo on Jonny Wilkinson? Yeah, sure, he missed three, but that only means that England won by two points, not 11*. And the cheese-eating surrender monkeys beating the mighty All Blacks?? What alternative ( Read more... )

Much of the same. Saw GP because I figured it was probably time I let them know and get the letter from the Sweet Young Thang Intern into my file there. Left hip still a worry; I have forms to get it re-x-rayed on Friday. At which stage, I will claim the title of Most Exposures To Radiation Ever from greenglowgrrl and expect to steal one of her icons, at ( Read more... )

You know you've really fucked something up when your physiotherapist tells you not to weight bear for another week at least. (Which is ok, because my feet and ankles have for some reason chosen this week to try to imitate water balloons.) Not only am I not to weight bear, I'm to actually spend as much time lying down as I can. So. A week in bed ( Read more... )

I had a bit of a fall this morning ( Read more... )