Last week got old really really quickly. Becki came round on Monday which was entertaining - not that she's a performing monkey or anything - and lovely as always. It was a good start to the week but she turned out to be the only visitor I had, and I was getting really really really bored of being trapped in the house. Hospital on Thursday brought a change from cast to spaceboot. I love a change. So now I can balance better but am not allowed to put weight on it so it's all a bit frustrating. I'm not gonna lie, I did celebrate my trip to the hospital with guiness. This is where it started to look up a bit really. However, by the weekend I was predictably an emotional blubbering pile of crap. I'm SOOOOOOOOOOOO LONELY! Everything is crap! Why does everything go wrong? Why can't I just get on with my life?!
So, yes, big mardy. Fortunately, I happen to live with the best man in the universe. He picked me up (The floor was my chosen location for this massive strop), dusted me down and took me to my favourite local pub. This was where things began to pick up. Guinness, pork scratchings, pool and cuddles are tried and tested methods. I think you should all know - it's really difficult to play pool when you're essentially one legged. Crutching around the pool table, falling over, lining shots up and getting into position. Not easy. But I pulled it off and beat Tom (who is loads better than me at the game) which was a bit of a high. Yes, a high, not that I have no life or anything. Also, you should probably know that using a crutch as a cue is pretty much made of fail.
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