I'm not a fit person, contrary to popular belief AND the strangers who are convinced I spend all of my time in a gym. Wrong...I have never set foot in a gym nor do I or have I played sport since I was in the Southport High School Netball team...the one that was kicked out of the all schools competition for head high tackles :/ I was however...a pretty good Water Skier. Barefoot skiing, riding Yamaha peewee's and bungee jumping is as extreme as I have ever gotten. Years of skiing has never done my back any favours, but it was actually a snapped tendon in my left knee 2 years ago, that ended my watery lusty career. My back however is the catalyst for this post, because this week I totally fucked it...gardening. And I mean fucked it as in barely being able to walk and having to take Vicodin (or in Australia I'm assuming that could be close to the Panadeine Forte family). I am hopeless when taking strong painkillers...I throw up and then I sleep and that is exactly what I did on this Vicodin shizzle. The world could have lost it's balance and flown away or disintegrated and I couldn't have given a shit, nothing mattered but the pink cotton candy (which I swear was there) on the ceiling in my bedroom at Trace's house.
Why was I gardening? Maybe I was practising to be a mexican so I'd be employed as a gardener. I don't know. I just never expected to be injured planting blue flowers into pottery pots, but of course, I forget sometimes...this is me we are talking about.