champion

I love being championed. Everyone does. It’s an entirely different thing, however, when someone HAS to champion for you. Telling everyone how great I am when it’s unsolicited is awesome; convincing people of how great I am when my head is on the chopping block is less so. Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate the championing – it’s the fact that it has to be done at all that is terrifying and sad-making. Time for an attitude adjustment and maybe some Botox to keep my emotions from displaying on my face so very clearly. *I* think I’m closed and guarded; apparently the rest of the world sees me as an open (filthy) book. This is bad. All those things I think inside my head where no one is looking? EVERYONE IS LOOKING.

I went to the doctor this morning about my hand, because it’s not getting any better and it all hurty and sore. I still can’t make a fist or wear jewellery, and things are all red and yellow and grey. The doctor gave me a tetanus shot, so for the next ten years or so I should be safe from my skeleton collapsing in on itself. I also have a prescription for antibiotics – look, internet! I took your advice! I never do that, so you should be pleased with yourselves. The swelling should hopefully go down soon, but until then, no rings or hand jobs or punching.

By this time tomorrow, I will be at the airport with Heather and Renee and we will be ALMOST ON OUR WAY TO LONDON !! HOORAY!

Okay, off to be not-visibly-angsty now.

 

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