Well, I’m pleased to say I am feeling much better this week. Of sorts.
I managed to get rid of the dreaded lurgi on Friday, only for it to be replaced with a constant feeling of nausea. And then, as I lay on the sofa on Saturday night, doing bugger all except watch telly and feel sorry for myself, the backs of my legs started to ache. Terribly. A pain in my lower back going down through my arse cheeks and straight down the back of my legs.
This is something I’ve suffered with before, but only a couple of times and never this bad. Saturday night was a real shit night for me as I should have been attending my nephew’s 18th birthday party, but instead I was crawling around the bedroom floor on all fours in agony and feeling sick. You know when you are that ill, that if you were to die at that moment you’d be grateful? Well, that was me on Saturday night.
Fortunately, by Sunday morning, the nausea had disappeared and the sciatic pain had lessened to the point where painkillers would all but clear the symptoms.
A beautiful Sunday morning and an impromptu call from a couple of mates, saw me dragging the bike out of the garage and the three of us taking a glorious ride up to Towcester for breakfast in a popular motorcycle café.
Yesterday, as the sun was still shining, I managed to make up for my lack of activity last week, by getting plenty of gardening done – well, plenty by my gardening standards, I bloody hate it. Then I had a big clear out in the loft. I was quite mercinary and even finally chucked out my 14 inch portable telly. It was quite emotional as I laid it down in the electrical skip at the Tidy Tip. Two inkjet printers; a laser printer; a Sky Digibox; an 8mm projector; two 10baseT managed ethernet switches; a VHS video recorder; an ethernet patch panel and an A4 flatbed scanner completed the load… along with two hundred weight of cardboard and polystyrene packing. And a roll of carpet.
And books. I found a box full of books. All comedy books: Monty Python and Goon Show scripts; memoirs of Spike Milligan and Harry Secombe and various Python cast members and Douglas Adams; all the Hitchhikers Guide books and others. I loved these books – that was why I still had them stashed away up in the loft, I guess. But, there was no point in keeping them… I was never going to read them again. So I skipped the lot. Even my well thumbed copy of ”Rommell? Gunner who?“, the first comedy book I ever bought and the one that got me into all things Milligan-esque.
As I say, “mercenary”.
Anyway, I’m on holiday this week – in as much as I still have no work and the wife and kids are currently sunning it up in french France. I took them to Gatwick Airport on Friday afternoon, in what was possibly the worst journey on the M25.
But that’s another story.
Anyway, I’d best get myself back up in that loft, as it is far from being empty.