Hell Week

Yes yes, I know, it's like reading the diaries of Sybil at the moment, isn't it? "I'm sad, I'm happy, I'm angry, I'm confused, I'm seven different things at once, give a damn, you buggers!!"

I'm not in Hell right now. Not really. The thing is, yesterday, I did...something...to this wretched foot of mine again. Could hardly walk by the time I got in from work - the foot was hot and swollen and shooting the kind of pain that works like toothache, just drilling weariness through my system. d went to work doing what she's extremely good at, wrapped the foot in two layers, elevated the bejeesus out of my leg and pretty much knocked me out for the night (in a loving, caring way, of course). This morning, I was in serious pain, so there was a certain amount of existential hatred coursing through my veins as I stood on the tube, walked into the office and threw some pills down my neck.

But the Hell dawned on me talking to d. Because what I've done, clearly, is irritate the crap out of my ligaments, and then fail to let them heal properly, and then irritate the crap out of them alllll over again. So what this means is that what I really need to do...is the thing I didn't do previously - let the damn things heal.

Which means no strong exercise. No long walking, none of my ten mile cycles. Not a damn thing of any consequence. And you know what that means. That means I'm not only not going to lose anything this week, there's every likelihood in the world that I'm gonna gain. Gaining more than a couple of pounds means falling back below the line of losing two stone. That's a serious symbolic setback, if not, in real terms, a terribly significant actual one.

S'gonna drive me up the wall, clearly. I'll try not to make it do the same to you...honest. The truly weird thing of course is that the best thing in the world for the old me would be a cast-iron excuse to sit on my ass for a week doing abbbbsolutely nothing. Did I mention I've changed, cos right now that sounds like a pathetic, minor incarnation of living Hell to me...

Still - let's think - more time to write, more time to write, more time to write...

Blood was a particularly interesting 4.6 this morning after no walking whatsoever.