As the job debacle rumbles on and my cast gets progressively more itchy it's hard not to be angry. I have to admit that the love I've received from friends, family and readers has been very welcome and has genuinely made me feel better. It's also contributed to my attempts at not being bitter.
Unlike previously shafted employees I've decided not to get angry. It's rubbish but I'll be damned if they'll make me slink off into the dark. Leaving do and presents please!
Tuesday, 29 June 2010
Sunday, 27 June 2010
Cast off date!
It's been a bit of a rubbish week as I found out I've been sold to a new company. Yes, I'm being trafficked. Anyhoo, I have at least got a date for cast off. The 27th of July. At least there's light at the end of the tunnel I spose...
Friday, 18 June 2010
PINK!
Check it out...
Plus, the rather camp male nurse who put it on joyfully exclaimed 'I haven't done a pink one in ages' when I made my choice, ooooh matron!
Plus, the rather camp male nurse who put it on joyfully exclaimed 'I haven't done a pink one in ages' when I made my choice, ooooh matron!
Thursday, 10 June 2010
Bored now
So, here I am, all casted up. And I am booooored.
The pain in my fingers means typing with my right hand is out and I'm doing this post over several days using my pointing finger on my left hand. On top of this, it really hurts. God bless Tramadol but it so isn't stopping all of the pain. I'm knackered too and am napping with Mr Handsome every afternoon. This combination means I'm off work, at least until Mr Orthopaedic surgeon man decides on whether I need it pinned. I'll also be getting my new cast then, I'm desperately hoping they'll have pink ones.
Having no right hand use is pants. Who knew that even going for a wee could be an adventure in balance and co-ordination? I was asked to sign for my prescription earlier and just looked at the pharmacist blankly. I'm starting to get the hang of left-handed Sudoku, but it takes a squillion years.
On the plus side I'm not able to do housework either, nor can I cook. Turns out Mr Weenie is a fabulous nurse. He's been downloading recipes to take over the kitchen I've run for seven years(amazing chilli mmmm), ensuring I don't have to go out braless (intrepid teenage boys who learn the one-handed bra undo I salute you), attempting to tie back my hair and telling me my new hair cut looks lovely (hurrah for Louis, hair saviour for ladies who have one hand with which to sort their bonce), and just generally being fab.
The love I've received from various quarters has been most marvellous. Not only have friends and loved ones been voicing concern and offering help but when you're a damsel in cast even teenage boys on the bus rush to your aid when you drop your phone for the third time.
When I pass Reg in the corridor, however, it pains me. Taking the bus and train has been crap and when I see cyclists whizzing past I wish it was me...
Anyhoo, enough ranting, I need someone to remove the wrapper from my ice lolly. Mr Weeeeeeeeeeeeeenie...
The pain in my fingers means typing with my right hand is out and I'm doing this post over several days using my pointing finger on my left hand. On top of this, it really hurts. God bless Tramadol but it so isn't stopping all of the pain. I'm knackered too and am napping with Mr Handsome every afternoon. This combination means I'm off work, at least until Mr Orthopaedic surgeon man decides on whether I need it pinned. I'll also be getting my new cast then, I'm desperately hoping they'll have pink ones.
Having no right hand use is pants. Who knew that even going for a wee could be an adventure in balance and co-ordination? I was asked to sign for my prescription earlier and just looked at the pharmacist blankly. I'm starting to get the hang of left-handed Sudoku, but it takes a squillion years.
On the plus side I'm not able to do housework either, nor can I cook. Turns out Mr Weenie is a fabulous nurse. He's been downloading recipes to take over the kitchen I've run for seven years(amazing chilli mmmm), ensuring I don't have to go out braless (intrepid teenage boys who learn the one-handed bra undo I salute you), attempting to tie back my hair and telling me my new hair cut looks lovely (hurrah for Louis, hair saviour for ladies who have one hand with which to sort their bonce), and just generally being fab.
The love I've received from various quarters has been most marvellous. Not only have friends and loved ones been voicing concern and offering help but when you're a damsel in cast even teenage boys on the bus rush to your aid when you drop your phone for the third time.
When I pass Reg in the corridor, however, it pains me. Taking the bus and train has been crap and when I see cyclists whizzing past I wish it was me...
Anyhoo, enough ranting, I need someone to remove the wrapper from my ice lolly. Mr Weeeeeeeeeeeeeenie...
Tuesday, 8 June 2010
No bikes were harmed in the breaking of my wrist
Yes, I have managed to break my right wrist.
I fell playing rounders at a barbeque. I've managed to split my ulner, chip it AND possibly dislocate my thumb. It sucks.
I can barely do anything. Typing is taking an age and the pain means I can't even use my fingers to hold anything still while I use my left hand.
Mr Weenie has been marvellous.
So... the story...
I was fielding and ran for the ball. My ankle went over and I landed with all my weight on my wrist. I felt sick for a moment and it was sore but I decided to get up and soldier on. I played left handed for another hour or so. Afterwards, we went to the bar. I'd only had two bottles of beer all day but decided to have a coke.
I started to feel really sick and, as we left, asked to be taken to the hospital on the way home. We arrived at 8.45pm, and left at 2.30am. I swore and moaned while being x-rayed and nearly passed out when they took the sling off.
A mean nurse plastered me eventually and we walked home. Mr Weenie carried my bag, made sure I kept warm and, with the foxes and a clear night it could have been romantic.
The annoying thing is that I can't blog much, if at all. Nor, crucially, can I cycle. Six weeks in plaster. Sigh.
I fell playing rounders at a barbeque. I've managed to split my ulner, chip it AND possibly dislocate my thumb. It sucks.
I can barely do anything. Typing is taking an age and the pain means I can't even use my fingers to hold anything still while I use my left hand.
Mr Weenie has been marvellous.
So... the story...
I was fielding and ran for the ball. My ankle went over and I landed with all my weight on my wrist. I felt sick for a moment and it was sore but I decided to get up and soldier on. I played left handed for another hour or so. Afterwards, we went to the bar. I'd only had two bottles of beer all day but decided to have a coke.
I started to feel really sick and, as we left, asked to be taken to the hospital on the way home. We arrived at 8.45pm, and left at 2.30am. I swore and moaned while being x-rayed and nearly passed out when they took the sling off.
A mean nurse plastered me eventually and we walked home. Mr Weenie carried my bag, made sure I kept warm and, with the foxes and a clear night it could have been romantic.
The annoying thing is that I can't blog much, if at all. Nor, crucially, can I cycle. Six weeks in plaster. Sigh.
Friday, 4 June 2010
Ridiculously good mood
Hmmmm, why am I so happy? Could be because:
Oh and just because, this was the Thames path yesterday afternoon as I cycled to a medical appointment. Beautiful!
- I have a new personal best getting to work, 25mins door-to-door.
- It's beautiful weather.
- Mr Weenie has started planting herbs and things in the balcony plant boxes and they look beautiful.
- I'm seeing my lovely sisters this evening.
- My copy of Replay has arrived (written by the marvellous T).
- Reg is still clean and gorgeous after his mid-week wash.
- I ran out to catch the ice-cream man last night and he gave me an extra big Mr Whippy.
Oh and just because, this was the Thames path yesterday afternoon as I cycled to a medical appointment. Beautiful!
Thursday, 3 June 2010
Ealing Cycling Campaign and singing chums
When Mr Weenie announced he was off the rugby AGM there was a niggling feeling that I'd been asked to go somewhere, then I remembered. Ealing Cycling Campaign meets once a month and last night was the night.
I decided to attend. A asked me ages ago and I was hijacked in the local Waitrose car park by another member asking if I wanted to join.
It was a nice evening on all fronts. A very nice man on a Brompton bought me a beer, there was a space next to A for me to sit, and I found out about the various Bike Week projects going on in the borough. It was, a bit like the FNRttC, the kind of cycle group where everyone is welcome and, while some were in jerseys and some were in jeans, we were all cyclists together.
Afterwards, having had no word from Mr Weenie, I decided to visit some old friends who I had no doubt would be in a local pub as they always are on a Wednesday night. I arrived unannounced and had wine thrust into my hands and a hearty welcome.
I then cycled home in the balmy evening, not even having to put a jacket on. Bliss.
I decided to attend. A asked me ages ago and I was hijacked in the local Waitrose car park by another member asking if I wanted to join.
It was a nice evening on all fronts. A very nice man on a Brompton bought me a beer, there was a space next to A for me to sit, and I found out about the various Bike Week projects going on in the borough. It was, a bit like the FNRttC, the kind of cycle group where everyone is welcome and, while some were in jerseys and some were in jeans, we were all cyclists together.
Afterwards, having had no word from Mr Weenie, I decided to visit some old friends who I had no doubt would be in a local pub as they always are on a Wednesday night. I arrived unannounced and had wine thrust into my hands and a hearty welcome.
I then cycled home in the balmy evening, not even having to put a jacket on. Bliss.
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
Blend those blues away
Yesterday I was having a less than spectacular day. To top it off, a guy walked out straight in front of my bike on my way home. Noticing that he wasn't looking I had rung my bell with no response and, luckily, had slowed in the anticipation of his suspected stupidity. It didn't stop him swearing at me though. By the time I got home, wet and muddy, I was less than bubbly.
As Mr Weenie and I waited for our shopping delivery I decided to take action.
For my 21st birthday I bought myself a blender. A £120 blender. It has about a squillion attachments, including a juicer. We have a regular fruit and veg box delivery and have been woefully rubbish at eating the fruit. I decided to blend my blues away. I juiced the oranges, then I did some apples and, while it took about five to make one large glass of juice, Mr Weenie pronounced it delectable. I juiced the pears as well and, with no fruit left, I decided to attack the kohlrabi that had arrived instead of detested courgette.
Using the shredder I reduced it to paper thin strips along with some carrots and an onion. Mr Weenie and I snacked on the resulting mix while waiting for the shopping.
Yes, there's nothing quite like shredding and pulping the hell out of things to make you feel better.
As Mr Weenie and I waited for our shopping delivery I decided to take action.
For my 21st birthday I bought myself a blender. A £120 blender. It has about a squillion attachments, including a juicer. We have a regular fruit and veg box delivery and have been woefully rubbish at eating the fruit. I decided to blend my blues away. I juiced the oranges, then I did some apples and, while it took about five to make one large glass of juice, Mr Weenie pronounced it delectable. I juiced the pears as well and, with no fruit left, I decided to attack the kohlrabi that had arrived instead of detested courgette.
Using the shredder I reduced it to paper thin strips along with some carrots and an onion. Mr Weenie and I snacked on the resulting mix while waiting for the shopping.
Yes, there's nothing quite like shredding and pulping the hell out of things to make you feel better.
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
The Evans in Brentford
I was off buying cat food nearby and realised that Wizzbikes has now completely morphed into a branch of Evans Cycles.
My company's Ride to Work scheme is through Evans, so I decided to check it out in case I decide to get Rupes, my third bike. Wizzbikes was much loved by local cyclists and, with their staff kept on and the Chiswick Evans super busy, I wanted to check out the customer service etc.
I got lovely, if alarming young, lad, who was super helpful and had no problems whipping out bikes for my inspection and allowing me to sit on them. He certainly talked the talk and was very helpful. He was a little obsessed with me getting a road bike even though my heart's set on a cyclocross, but he made some compelling arguments. They also had some GORGEOUS sit up and begs........
In short, I'm fairly sure that it's the shop I'll be going to if and when I go through Ride to Work. Evans can be a bit patchy on service (Fulham Broadway were particularly awful when I went in) and I want somewhere that treats me like a proper cyclist without bamboozling me with details. I'll let you know when I go next.
My company's Ride to Work scheme is through Evans, so I decided to check it out in case I decide to get Rupes, my third bike. Wizzbikes was much loved by local cyclists and, with their staff kept on and the Chiswick Evans super busy, I wanted to check out the customer service etc.
I got lovely, if alarming young, lad, who was super helpful and had no problems whipping out bikes for my inspection and allowing me to sit on them. He certainly talked the talk and was very helpful. He was a little obsessed with me getting a road bike even though my heart's set on a cyclocross, but he made some compelling arguments. They also had some GORGEOUS sit up and begs........
In short, I'm fairly sure that it's the shop I'll be going to if and when I go through Ride to Work. Evans can be a bit patchy on service (Fulham Broadway were particularly awful when I went in) and I want somewhere that treats me like a proper cyclist without bamboozling me with details. I'll let you know when I go next.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
