Suprise Song Sunday: Where Are You Now? - Mumford & Sons

Where are you now?

Do you ever think of me

In the quiet, in the crowd.

Beautiful song. 

Work starts tomorrow. I think it just suddenly dawned on me today that I won't be having a weekday off for a while. And with that thought, I've started resenting shops and stuff that don't open on weekends. Or at least Saturdays. I can't actually think of any that don't open on either Saturday or Sunday off the top of my head, but when I do, I will resent them hard.

As far as pre-work-beginning weekends go, this one hasn't been bad at all. Or even a pre-work week.

On Monday, had lunch with Irene. Just like old times. We even visited uni for O-Week, to add in a bit of gut-wrenching nostalgia. 

On Tuesday, I got the more or less all-clear from the physio. So now my building of the muscle mass in the left leg is mostly up to me. 

Couple of days of not doing a great deal, then had pho dinner with honours friends. Good times, as always.  

Yesterday, played a bit of badminton with some mates, had a visit from an unexpected visitor at said game of badminton, played a bit of impromptu/unprecedented squash with said unexpected visitor, and had dessert with some mates.  

Today, went to eat pho lunch with family, then went to Vic Market. Finally got myself a double-sided sheep mug there, and got the craziest wooden turtle ever. I'd take you a photo, but it's too late. Got work tomorrow. I know, ironic. We ended by visiting Shoppingtown to pick Michelle up, and I stared at some awesome shoes in Aquila. Dinner was a delicious lamb fillet dinner cooked by my mother. Almost completely irrelevant, but whatever.  

All in all, pretty successful. Caught almost everyone that I wanted to catch before I started work. Hopefully I won't get busy too soon, and still be able to maintain a semblance of a social life. 

Time to become a productive member of the household, and the community. Yeah. Not pretentious or anything. 

Word of the Day: Resenting  

  

Haiku's are easy, but sometimes they don't make sense, refrigerator.

Quite frankly, I feel like rubbish right now.

Yesterday I developed an annoying sore throat/cough, impeding my ability to converse with people. Granted, not many people really want to hear what I have to say anyway, but it's still annoying. It also makes it seem like I'm always angry, because I don't want to talk. Which is totally not true. Most of the time.

Anyway, yesterday my dad asked me to trim the hedges. Then he found out my throat felt like it was on fire. Don't know how. He may have some psychic ability or something. Or maybe it was the fact that my reply of "Ok" sounded more like a grainy piece of sand paper being drawn across a very rough patch of tarmac. Who knows.

So then he was all like "You really shouldn't, you know, with a sore throat and all. Leave them for me." But what kind of self-respecting son would leave these menial tasks to his already hard-working father?

So I manned up and did it anyway. I don't think it really did more damage to the throat. Or maybe it just feels like it didn't do that much damage in comparison to the burning sensation that I now feel in my arm.

No, I didn't cut myself with the hedge trimmer. My old enemy, sunburn, came back to get me. It didn't help that I'd been reading with my left arm in the sun for the entire morning to begin with either. I think the extended hedge trimming pushed it over the edge.

This morning I developed a sniffle, which I think is just allergy, as I haven't gotten a headache or similar. At least not yet.

So despite the slight ache in my arms from the hedge-cutting frivolities of yesterday afternoon, I decided to gym it up a bit.

Now my arms hurt even more. And my left arm still feels like it's on fire. And I still have a sore throat and a runny nose and a cough. Oh, and my knee injury is actually getting worse. It's freaking creaking now.

To cap it all off, people, or a person, is deliberately ignoring me, or has a more woeful memory than I do.

And this is why I took this thing off Facebook. I don't want people to see me pitying myself. I don't even want to see it. I just don't want to keep it bottled up again, or I might explode from frustration.

I leave you with a Haiku of my own composition.

When you are with me,
You're different to when you're not,
I'm very confused.

Word of the Day: Hurting

I heart jolly good times

Day off today. And what does one do one their day off? Visit to the doctor's of course!

Yay.

Okay, I'll shut up now.

Anyway, I haven't been there for a while now. Well, at least not for myself. Pretty boring place, full of not-very-young people on weekdays.

Anyway, after bending my knee and putting me in excruciating pain, Mrs. Doctor gave me anti-inflammatories and told me to pray that I didn't rip my meniscus or cartilage or something like that to shreds, otherwise I'll need reconstructive surgery, which, I think, would not be very much fun. But it's not all doom and gloom. She says that I *probably* haven't completely screwed up my meniscus, even though I'm struggling to get up stairs, because I didn't do what footy players do - take a mark, twist and basically rip all the tendons in their knee, which she calls a triple tear. Mine's so much better, because potentially it's only a single tear. Only. Hopefully. I'll need to do an MRI or something similarly crazy to ascertain the extent of the damage if it doesn't get better. With no government rebate. So bye-bye new jeans if I need an MRI.

Either way, I'll know in five or so days, because if my knee keeps looking like a watermelon, that means that I'll need surgery.

So if you didn't understand the above, because I have issues expressing myself even in writing, the equation is as follows (assuming that you care):

knee size of watermelon after a week = most likely surgery.

In the meantime, I'm supposed to keep knee movements of the right-sided variety to a minimum.

It just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?

Word of the Day: Funtime

The Fear

Dear Blog: A miserable day at uni to further compound my miserableness.

Had a 2.5 hour break. People wouldn't, couldn't or didn't pick up their phones, or they were in lectures, or they hate me a lot. Maybe all three together. Who knows. So I ended up being bored and depressed until Mark came along at 11:50 or so. Made me laugh for about ten mins, then he had a lecture. So I became bored for another hour and a half.

French workshop was boring and lonely. Management tute was boring, lonely and weird.

My whole body hurts. I think it's all linked to my knee.

I think that these are all superficial reasons for my unhappiness.

I think it's because, deep down, I'm scared.

I'm scared that I'll grow old, with all the money in the world, but no-one to share it with. I think that's my greatest fear, actually.

I'm scared that no-one cares.

Word of the Day: Scared