When I’m busy, I get an immense amount of stuff done. I get up at the crack of dawn, hit the gym, return phone calls on the way to work, squeeze paperwork in between lighting set-ups, pay my bills on time (usually), keep the garden watered and the cat happy (as cats go) and still manage to squeeze in some internet time.
Now, that I have nothing on the schedule I just can’t seem to find any time to do anything – the day just slips away from me leaving me scratching my head around 7 pm, wondering what the hell just happened.
Part of the problem is that the foot still hurts a lot in the evenings – it feels fine in the morning, but after even a couple of hours of walking on it the low-level (no pun intended) aching comes roaring back and I can’t think. Despite my best intentions, all I can do is sit on the couch and pretend to read, although I seem to mostly re-read the same thing 15 times and then give up and turn on the TV.
The foot’s not healing as quickly as the doctor would like and at my last appointment he expressed a desire for me to get back to work – I couldn’t agree more. I think he thinks that I’m goldbricking and trying to extend disability, but nothing could be further from the truth.
I desperately want to get back to work, but unfortunately for me there’s no ‘light duty’ distinction in my line of work – I can either do the job or I can’t, and until I can stay on my feet for 10 hours and walk for most of that time (which I currently can’t), I’m not able to work.
The physical therapist keeps trying to reassure me that it’s all going to be okay, which just makes me want to kick him.
With the good foot, of course.
On a lighter note, I so very rarely find something that actually makes me laugh out loud. Behold, the camper shell fail: