Woke up thinking ‘ouch’, I have slept funny so aggravated my already sore back.
Got up, put lenses in wrong eyes, struggled in the shower as lifting my arms above my head is hard work. Take some super-dooper strength paracetamol and coedine so I can move.
Don’t worry about blow-drying hair, put gunk on and move out of face instead. Shows off the extra eye I’ve got on my forehead like a cyclops, one of those spots that doesn’t heal quickly as you keep clonking it. Just in time for the Christmas Party this Saturday.
Get dressed, trousers catch on scab on foot where I dropped my razor on it in the shower yesterday, starts bleeding all over again. Wonder if I should be protected from sharp implements permanently?
Make breakfast and lunch without mishap. Get in car and drive DG to work.
Collect post from PO Box, attempt to get out of car and think uh-oh, can’t really move here.
Call physio, no answer. Call another physio, yes he can see me at 9am. Drive to work, gingerly.
Walk up stairs to work, looking like I’ve shat myself. Boss looks at me (also a physio) and says ‘You really are stiff aren’t you?
Get lost driving to physio appointment as in so much pain I can’t concentrate on my direction.
Spend an hour face down in a hole on a couch being pummelled. You know it is bad when the guy has to work on you for 20 minutes before he can *work* on you.
Drive back to work like a space cadet, feeling both nauseous and like I’ve been hit by a truck. Walk back to office from car-park, still like I’ve shat myself, but at least I can turn to the side now.
Cook some toast to settle my stomach, burn it.
Cook more toast to settle my stomach, fly lands on it.
Drink gallons of water, now my pain-killers are wearing off, I am thinking, can I crawl under my desk, will anyone notice?
Air con is still not working, am feeling woozy from second lot of super-dooper strength pain-killers and my external meeting is about an hour away.
Pre-meeting prep. Working through everything, told he’s arrived, get up too quickly and see stars. Settle into meeting thinking, ‘It’s only an hour, it’s only an hour’.
2 and a half hours later, end meeting after having to seperate warring factions, to be told ‘It’s not my role’ for doing so. Ok, you want to let a 10 year relationship go down the pan with the only person who can help us get resolution, go ahead.
Cry in frustration and anger (and pain) at being stymied at every turn, report issues to Boss, he is shocked, tells me to get some air/coffee/anything, he will help me sort it out.
All the boys in the office know why I am crying, they are in the same boat, but obviously more macho than me, but just as pissed off with him.
Sit in coffee shop with pink and puffy face, little old lady asks ‘Are you ok?’
Go back to office to finish off remnants of the day, am now being ignored by said faction, who is the biggest ‘right-fighter’ I’ve ever met. He will change facts rather than admit he’s in the wrong. Wonders if this is the straw that will break my already fubard back?
Drive home, still walking like I’ve shat myself. Have had 2 glasses of wine, bugger the painkillers. DG kisses me and tells me he loves me.
Finds that another fish has been eaten by the biggest fish, knows how it feels.