Excuse the awful pun in the subject line. It's day 2 and I am insane with pain. I sleep an hour or two and most of that is slow rolls in agony to find a painless position. Futile. Yesterday I managed a nice shower and shave with a Waitrose carrier bag over the plaster. Then I slid into some nice freshly shrunken blue jeans. One does of course need fingers that work to do up such insignificant items as buttons and zips. So that is why I was on my neighbours doorstep at 9am hoping she was home and wouldn't take it all wrongly. She was out so with a last gasp of pain I got that damned Levi button through the hole. It took a total of 40 minutes and 5 aspirin.
Now it's 5:30 am and I am off my flippin' rocker with pain. The Achilles tendon is the worst but the busted arm is playing a close second fiddle.
Being one handed is awful but when that hand is the 'wrong' hand it gets ridiculous. Brushing ones teeth takes on a whole new perspective in the art of painful frustration. Toothpaste in the eye, brush up yer nose, gums bashed by plastic. I managed to clean one tooth and said 'sod it'.
As soon as I can stand to be still for 2 minutes I'll start to tell you about the fabulous, remarkable Aprilia 850 Mana. Bear with me.
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