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.
