My ageing body is falling apart.
Oh woe is me.
My elbow irritation is approaching three months or so of mild pain. I know what is causing it - too much bloody keyboard time.
But now my back is crocked as well.
I’m not alarmed; this happens every six months or so. The healing waters of Lake Brockwell usually provide a suitable cure.
And so I spent an hour or so hobbling around the flat early on Sunday morning, trying to shake off the back pain, just so that I could cycle over to the lovely lido.
I submerged into the green [ewww] waters of Lake Brockwell with all the dignity of a sinking ship.
It only took half a dozen lengths before the back pain disappeared.
I don’t think that it actually did disappear to be honest. It was just the out of body (and back) experience that Lake Brockwell offers up.
I had a tight - but not sinking - ship for the rest of the day. I had endless school content to edit and publish, plus photo catching up from running around South London yesterday.
I ticked off the SE17 school stuff before luncheon, and then cycled off to The Globe for the Scottish play.
Standing in the yard for three hours was never really a good idea for a crocked hypochondriac - especially so a crocked hypochondriac who struggles at the best of times with the Scottish play.
It was pacy affair though, from the witches, all the way through to the final Coronation.
I celebrated with my usual Jacobean little jig come the close.
OUCH.
That bloody hurt, etc.
Back in Sunny Stockwell and I made some progress on the online catching up: Cabinet for Monday evening, the Lido Annual Races, Dulwich and Urban Art.
If you don’t publish ASAP then content just clogs up your hard drive.
I did have plans to go out and party with the crazy Portos of SW8 in the evening. But it wasn’t really my party to be honest.
And so I stayed in and listened to the football, whilst finishing off all of the SW9 school content.
Something tells me that I won’t get much sleep tonight.
Hey hoe.