GRRRR!

I'm pissed off. I somehow strained my left achilles last night. Not the end of the world, but not the Saturday I'd hoped to have. The masterplan included a small hike and a bunch of other stuff. Now I'm downsizing and just going to a friend's this afternoon for a housecooling.

(They're leaving the province, thus moving out of the house. Opposite of housewarming = housecooling? And if not, why not? Logic, people. LOGIC.)

Tonight's the much-loved Parade of the Lost Souls. It involves walking. I have a gimpy achilles. I want it to heal. Walking before it heals is probably not wise. But then there's not another Parade of Lost Souls until October 2008, so I'd be a fool to not go. Photo op! Photo op! Plus, the nephew's coming and he's never been. Funny watching him have his moments when he realizes he does NOT know everything "cool" after all. Snot-nosed punks... heh. They should stay 6 for a little longer. 11's when they get precocious.

Whatever. I'll probably do it, but it might mean curtailing activity for a day or two, WHICH IS SO NOT COOL, not when I'm just getting motivated to get fit! I am NOT PLEASED with the universe.

More importantly, I feel like a doofus! Know how it happened? I stood up to get off the couch. Fucking irony there, eh? I was cleaning house in between commercials last night, and all energetically hopped up to go do the last couple of dishes, then THWAP. Sproing went the achilles. Fuckin' dumb-ass, is what that is.

Anyhow, like I say, it's not all that bad. Should be a day or two of discomfort at the most if I don't go bein' a dumb-ass and pushing it. I'm also as amused as I am annoyed. I shall be fine. I just deserve to feel pissy about it for a half hour.

Gives me an opportunity to take an hour and finish reading Alex Garland's Coma. Good writer. I've like Garland since the first week The Beach landed on my shelf in the bookstore. I was always a big Graham Greene fan, and Garland seems to have followed in Greene's footsteps. Tesseract was terrific. And then the movie 28 Days Later? Ha. C'mon! Good at tapping into the mindset. Great at first-person narratives.

But reading about the coma and the weirdness of head injuries is a little off-putting. I'm being thrust into remembering just how much of my life I forget in the six months following my head injury in 2004. I don't remember that Christmas, I don't remember the hockey season, I don't remember what work was like, I don't remember anything. It's all just a blur of "I know I was there, but I shoulda got the t-shirt". (I do, however, have the blog... I should go back and read the six months from Sept'04 to March'05) It's a little disconcerting how much of your life slips from you when you're recuping from a head injury. My advice? Give serious concussions a pass. Not fun. No good.

Opt instead for a strained achilles. Now THAT is doable.