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Oh god, I hate physiotherapists.

Hate, hate, hate.

No, Mr Physiotherapist, I *can't* stand, one-legged (yes, the sore leg), on tippy-toes. Yes, Mr Physiotherapist, just like the ultrasound shows, that tendon is *broken*. Therefore, my foot no longer moves the way it used to, no matter how nicely my brain asks it to. Argh. 

Ache, ache, ache.

Suddenly remembered late this afternoon that I'm supposed to have Friday off, and when I reminded my boss, she told me to take tomorrow off, too, and get some rest. Aaaahhh. Four days of relaxing before I have to cope with city footpaths again. I never noticed how uneven sidewalks are in the city before. 

I have a sneaking suspicion my ankle will stop me from sleeping much tonight. Sigh. Think I'll lay in a stockpile of DVDs by the bed, just in case.

Nighty-night, sweet flist. Well. It's night here. Have a nice day/night wherever you are!


Poor baby! Mean ole Physiotherapist, trying to hurt my Riley. Shall I come beat him up for you? *g*

Four days off should be very nice for you. Maybe we could even chat again. Or you could just d/l more porn. ;)

Yes please. Physiotherapists are all sadists. :-(

... or I could *upload* it ... as a reward for the lovely SITT ... *g*
Mmmmmmm, yes please to the uploading!! *blinks eyes alluringly*