So today the physio says "You need to rest that for four days" before launching into a seemingly irrelevant rant about Steve Moneghetti and training runs and gym work (gym work?!) ... the lond and the short of it is that I have rather impressively screwed my right wrist and am not to play/demonstrate/write/feed myself with my right hand for a minimum four days. Argh.
Hang on, I hear you say. What for am I then blogging? Well, my cyberspatially challenged followers of randomness, I am blogging because I'm a little OCD and don't like missing a day. And I'm sneakily mostly typing with my (dexterous) left hand while banging the stationary fingers of my right up and down on the keyboard. Sometimes my ability to injure myself amazes even me.
Oh, and there's nine people on the right now. NINE! Sure, I'm related to one of them, and practically related to another, but that means I'm a little entertaining? Sometimes? Jeez, I don't think I have enough limbs to keep up with the spate of "Laugh at me as I injure myself yet again!" posts, but I do have a small dog with plenty of legs. (KIDDING).
Watched Neil Gaiman give a Google tech talk. When I grow up, I want to be Neil Gaiman. Possibly I won't dress quite so randomly (my leather jacket will be brown and have sleek motorcycle sleeves, not cuffed blouson monstrosities) but I'll happily acquire the accent, diction and devastating timing. Have a flaming desire to read Coraline after he said "Children are quite comfortable with it. Adults come up to me and say "I stayed up till three in the morning to finish that book and then had to get up and turn all the lights on. You're sick. And dangerous" "
It interests me that childrens' books have suffered a peculiar bout of sanitation. I remember being delighted (and horrified) by the "real" Bluebeard; recently my darling husband gave me Grimm's Grimmest. Yes, they're gory and could very well cause bad dreams; they're CAUTIONARY tales! If every little girl wants to be Cinderella, we haven't told them the right story!
Still waiting for Fishpond to send me my Pygmy (that's a book, not a small person) and have high hopes that it may arrive in the next ten days before I board a Jetstar flight to Japan. The best thing about a stupid wrist: no washing up. Hooray.
2 weeks ago
3 comments:
I'd love to not be able to do anything for 4 days! But I do feel your pain. It sucks when you can't do the things you want (ahem, like blogging all day long...)
Good luck with the wrist!
Oh, and check out The Stinky Cheese Man...fairy tales with a twist.
Oooh, thank you! Well, yes, I am enjoying the distinct lack of washing up and cooking. But teaching is so HARD when I can't demonstrate, and waving my hands about when I talk hurts... dulling the efficiency of my speech...gr. Off to google The Stinky Cheese Man now :)
Oh no! You must feel like you've been bound and gagged.
Do you need someone to buy you a pair of Chelsea-sized pair of clippers so that you don't do this again??
Also are you going to take your beloved's advice next time he says "you should see someone about that." He was so right. Don't let it go to his head! :-)
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