I think my life is conspiring against me...

Let me tell you about my week, and then you can make your own mind up.

Normally I try and keep my blog very light hearted and cheery, but this week has been so weird I’ve struggled to post anything that isn’t massively melodramatic.

So I’m just going to post it as one massive whinge.

Enjoy. 

OK, on the whole Monday went quite well, so I figured it would be a good week. Or something like that.

On Tuesday  evening after work I was super organised and got all my work done and went circuit training again  which I am really enjoying- and getting better at- people are really encouraging and nice and they tell me when I’m doing something completely wrong. I managed to get through 50 minutes of circuits feeling pretty good about myself. Then in the last 5 I went to use a step box, missed it completely (yeah, coz they’re not big or anything..) and turn my ankle over.

Unlike last week, this time my workout binge so late in the evening led to insomnia on a splott scale (if you remember my zombified 6 months I’m really sorry for being such an unreasonable bitch) I lay in bed until 4am.

Until that point I was still convinced I would be ok at work. And that I could make the best of it.

It got to 5am and I rang in sick and sent my cover.

I don’t think my students would have enjoyed my “total bitch” phase.

I spent Wednesday feeling like I’d been hit by a bus and panicking unreasonably that this was the start of another 6 months of not sleeping. Because not sleeping leads to paranoia. Wonderful.

I also had my first physiotherapy appointment for my back on Wednesday.

Now, I’m dubious about physiotherapy- probably because my only previous experience of it was when I broke my wrist. Except they told me it was sprained. And I dutifully went to the physiotherapist to have my “soft tissue injury manipulated.”

It was agonising.

Eventually I was provided with a plaster cast instead, which worked waaayyyy better.

I think that searing pain is forever imprinted on my mind.

So,  I turned up, tired, slightly paranoid and with a bad attitude caused by the factors listed above.

Now, I’ve always just assumed that my poorly back was because I have crap posture- so I was just expecting her to tell me to stand up properly and lose some weight- which is the standard talk I’ve gotten from various doctors for the last 4 years.

Her first instruction is to take off all my outer clothing so she can analyse my gait and posture.

Unexpected.

I had a decent bra on. That was my only saving grace. 

I also had legs like an Alsatian  and boypants covered in ponies which said “hot to trot” on the waistband.

I like my pants big-n-comfy, one of my housemates once mistook my pants for a teatowel (Cheers beca, much appreciated).

Had I know I’d have been parading about in my smalls I’d have made sure that they actually were, and maybe de-forested.

I had to parade about in my undercrackers for about 20 minutes, performing all kinds of bends and stretches that allowed me to get really close to my legs and realise just how furry they really were.

I can not fault the professionalism of the  Physio. She made no comment. She didn’t even smile.

Turns out my “yeah, it’ll be fine” attitude has cause me a bit of a problem. I now have a list of exercises and activities I am no longer allowed to undertake.

Circuit training is one of them.

She was horrified.

I was gutted.

And as a punishment for having crappy posture I have to wear squares of hard yellow foam in my shoes.

My work colleagues thought I’d filled my shoes with post-it notes  to make myself look taller.

And I have a bruise from their corners 

Stupid yellow foam corners.

Grrrrrr

I have 5 more physio appts on the NHS. For all of these events I will wear nice pants. And shave. I promise.

We has a work meeting on Thursday, and apparently I’ve agreed to write 2 SOW by Christmas. I’m sure I’d remember that. So I spent all of Friday stressing over it and  finally started it on Saturday morning. Grrrr.  I’ll get it done, I just wish I’d realised this was happening!

I need to stop just agreeing with people. And write things down.

I have a memory like a sieve.

I need to just accept this!

Yesterday I thought I’d save time and do the food shopping before traff got home from work- As I was pootling round aldis the stope manager was giving out free celebrations- and I thought that was lovely.

Until I realised the reason she was doing it was because 3 of their 4 tills had stopped working.

I queued the  whole length of the shop. Paying took longer than shopping!

So much for saving time!

But everyone was quite good humoured so it wasn’t awful. Just time consuming.

I’ve just about gotten over my week now- yesterday Traff and I went to see the football (Norwich beat Man u!) at the fox and hounds and we had dinner out. Which was really nice.

Thismorning I watched TOTP 2 from the 90s. if you haven’t see it you’ve missed out.

Heres to next week being a bit more normal. Please. thank you.