I broke a rib! Or I may have broken a rib. They don't know... they won't X-ray it. *sigh* Either way; I have a BUCKET of painkillers with ingredients I can't even guess how to pronounce (they make me slightly loopy... so excuse any following spaz). I don't usually like to take painkillers if I'm not working... what if I do something stupid and cause more damage without realising it? Pain is there for a reason; to tell us we've done something dumb, to stop doing it and never do it again... which says a lot about child birth, if you ask me. :P
Really though; it hurts just to breathe, never mind moving. And sleeping? Hah! Two painkillers and four sleeping pills just to sleep through the night... and my boss thinks I can work? On my feet, on the counter, during the busiest month of the year? Stupid woman.
Fortunately, my doctor wrote her a letter to tell her I couldn't work (because they can't give real doctor's notes unless you've been off for seven days... apparently). So, I won't be attending hell for a few weeks, which makes the pain totally worthwhile, and means I can a) do some writing, b) finish Okami, c) finish my business course and d) play around with my blog some more, again, finally.
I've skipped back to a pre-made template, although I have played a teeny, weeny bit (removed 'Contact Me' and RSS links). Will mess around with the banner so I can add my little rat plushie and possibly the colour scheme again.
Someone do me a favour and let me know if comments work on this one? Ta.
Oh, yeah... that rib I may or may not have broke. I broke it Go-Carting! Seriously. The poster on the doorway said "Safe and Fun." They were half right. It was a lot of fun. Definitely worth the £30 each we paid.
When we got into our little bucket seats (no belts) I wasn't nervous at all. It all seemed quite simple and easy; right peddle to go faster, left peddle to slow down, steering wheel to turn. Easy as pie... right?
Erm... yeah. If they had been buttons, on a joypad or even a joystick, or perhaps levers, I'd have been a-ok. Despite my many years of sports where feet play an important role (namely hockey but also netball, badminton, basketball, rounders, high and long jump) my eye-foot co-ordination is RUBBISH. The fact I cannot dance should have been sufficient evidence... but I had to go and prove it to myself in a much more cataclysmic fashion than treading on my own toes.
So, there I was; big helmet that kept falling down (tiny head), in a bucket seat, engine chugging noisily. Sez, in front of me, headed off so I hit the green peddle.
Eeeek! Bit of a shock... they go a whole lot faster than I thought! Had a minor bump on the way out and scared myself slightly. But hey, I thought, they let eight year old kids get in these things. How dangerous can they be?
See Aer floor the green peddle. See Aer not be able to use both feet at once. Watch as Aer gets her cart stuck under the rubber safety bands that run around the track.
As Sez (the bride, I might add) said when we finished our first thirty laps; once you'd had a crash and discovered it wasn't so bad you weren't so worried anymore and took a few more risks on the corners. She was right; I was taking a LOT more risks and I had the second best lap time in our group after the first go. And let me remind you; I've never been in the driving seat of a car before.
We had another 25 laps to use up but we took a rest and let the other half of our party go around. Those steering wheels are HEAVY, or stiff... they're just hard to turn. The track was quite small, inside a big old warehouse, and there weren't really any big straights; we were always wrestling with the wheels... and I was doing it at speed.
Our second go came around and I was all set for winning this race. I'd sussed out that I only needed to take my foot off the accelerator once, around the whole track, for a brief half a second on one particularly nasty sharp turn. If I timed it right and steered well I didn't really have to turn for the next corner; it was practically a straight.
And there in lay my mistake. It had worked on the last couple of laps on the previous round, I just needed to cut the time I kept my foot off the peddle... yeah, I didn't use the break. I just couldn't use the break, the accelerator, turn and not get distracted by the shiny lights and UGLY music at the same time; easier to just time my deceleration (this also saves on fuel consumption, so I was being green... in more ways than one).
My plan would have worked so well... had I not zoned out. I don't know why I zoned, but I did. I think it was the speed I was picking up... it was fun! I didn't want to slow down. By the time I realised I had to I was heading for a wall. I turned way too sharply and careened into it sideways... better than a head on collision, you'd have thought (and I'll get to THAT one shortly). My ribs connected with the edge of the bucket seat and the engine at rather a pace. I was a bit shaken but figured it couldn't possibly be more than a bit of bruising. I usually bounce very well. The amount of times I've done something idiotic and not died are innumerable.
The marshal hobbled over (all the marshals hobbled... we figure they had all been injured by go-carters; those things have a very low ground clearance) and yanked me away from the wall. Off I went again, chuckling and wincing. Despite the pain telling me to stop and get out I went round at a stupid speed. Unfortunately, now it hurt too much to yank the disobedient steering wheel around and I went straight into the wall on the same damn corner!
I practically flew out of the cart, kept in by my thighs gripping the steering wheel. I have some lovely big yellow bruises on my knees and inside my legs now. Alas, the really nasty damage doesn't show at all... unless you put your hand on my ribs and feel that one of them is sticking out a lot more than its friends.
That was only my third or fourth lap. *sigh* After that I kept to a lower speed because I knew I couldn't turn well enough. I didn't manage to get a very good lap time and came six out of seven. Bugger.
Still, it was awesome fun and I recommend Go-Carting to everyone... just, have a little more fear than me XD
As for the rest of the party. We sat and chatted in the sun with ice-cream while Sez had a facial then went for a gorgeous meal at Bistro Italiano on Claypath in Durham. Me, being a greedy pig, had three courses, two lemonades (none of us were drinking alcohol because Sez couldn't... although my pudding came with a shot of Limoncello) and a coffee... all for only £16.50! No one else could manage three courses though. Great food, fun music and very helpful, friendly waiters (though the chef had a barny about something just after we sat down... a lot of old Italian men yelling at each other).
I don't think all that food helped my ribs... but it was worth it.
So yeah... great hen party and now I have a few weeks off work!
Barber Queue - Time was when I needed a hair cut, I'd go at noon on a weekday, when the barber's is typically empty. One of the perks of being unemployed. But these days ...