Thursday, August 27, 2009

Short cuts

The physiotherapist feels the surgeon has done a bang on job with my shoulder and he reckons, once I've built the withered muscles up again, it should be a 95% minimum successful operation. Mr S***** saw it two days later and went one better - he reckons it's 100% cured!

Is that the fucking bee's knees or what?

To be fair, my shoulder has been remarkably excellent for the last week; yes there have been aches and pains, but the majority of them are through use after constant inactivity. There was also the minor gunge fest that happened when I thought everything was finished, but now I just have this small hole and a reluctance to study it in any detail...

It's just a shame that the new me has been condemned to doing what the old pre-op me spent so much time doing - nothing! It appears the fates have transpired against me all week, to prevent me from doing things I'd planned; which led me to examine this whole 'planning' lark.

I think anyone who knows me will agree that I'm not a control freak, by any stretch of the imagination, but at certain times I become the champion of control freaks. these are usually when I plan something. I'm a bit meticulous about my preparation; I like to make sure that everything is in place before venturing forth. If there's one thing that pisses me off it's when the best laid plans go awry. I hate it when they go wrong from something related to me, so imagine what I'm like when it's something that could be avoidable and involving the target of my plan? Take this week as an example; at least three things I had planned ended up not happening. There were three very logical reasons for them not happening, but it still left me at a loose end, unexpectedly.

I probably wouldn't mind so much, but the last 12 weeks have been hell, either because of or the recuperation of my shoulder, has meant that I've been housebound and the few occasions I have been out have been few and far between. Some one said to me last week, "Hey, you've had the entire summer off, what are you moaning about?" ... Yeah, I have haven't I? I managed the garden most days; the corner shop became a real highlight of the day - I'd try to have to go there at least daily. I became an expert at losing free money on Facebook's Texas Hold'Em and during July I sat and watched it rain... If you'll pardon the obvious comedy value remark - I'd have given my left arm to have had a summer where I could have been free of pain and able to have achieved all the things I might have planned. As it is, the summer (and it has been better than last year) simply floated past my office window like the grains of sand in an hourglass.

I also had a pretty good week last week, so this week has been an anti-climax of sorts. But I did eventually get to meet up with an old friend; who just seems to get better with age.

I hate Bank Holidays, mainly because we end up doing nothing on them. Normally, had I been at work for any period of time, I treat a bank holiday a bit like Christmas day - a chance to have a lie in. But this time around, because I've got itchy feet and an urge to actually do something before I go back to work, I'm a little disappointed that all we have planned is a possible trip to a pub this evening (Saturday). I appreciate that as this weekend is the busiest of the year and any thoughts I might have of travelling anywhere on Monday should be curtailed, but...

Of course when plans go awry, I normally find something to do in their wake; however, because I've already plumbed new depths of boredom over the last 3 months, finding an alternative is a little like trying to find a needle on Jupiter. However, I have at least been writing again. I finished a 3000 word synopsis of a story I'm pretty desperate to make a move on. I'm approaching it in a different way than usual and I sort of have it tagged as a teenagers book, although one of the characters is foul-mouthed, so I'm having a small quandary about that. The peculiar thing about this idea is that it contains a lot of ideas and characters I have used in other ill-fated and came-to-nothing projects - proving indubitably that there is a value in writing anything, even if it never comes to anything.

I've also been working on another story, something completely different - in terms of genre - for me. I'm doing it as an experiment more than anything. The bottom line is this - I have to exercise my left arm because the muscles have withered - I also have to exercise my brain, because the most taxing thing I've done with it in recent months has been to play Scrabble. Which is why I'm probably popping up all over the place at the moment - I have loads of words that have built up like a dam and they're just bursting to get out on the page - regardless of whether they make any sense or not. It's one of the most positive feelings I've had for months.

Right... I have a weekend of nothing to liven up!


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