I can't decide what makes me more miserable - my complete inability to figure out a script I was slaving over all weekend or the fact that I can't seem to walk through doorways without doing myself some sort of damage. (Exhibit A - broken foot resting on table in Market Theatre Bar, Hitchin)
One of my toes was pointing in completely the wrong direction by the time I was finished. It looked like something out of a bad 50s B movie with no special effects budget. It wasn't too sore until I looked at it, and from that point on I was in agony. The Doctor called me at two in the morning to say that she'd forgotten to give me crutches, by which point I was too far away from A and E, and too tired to go back. Unable to return to base, today's scheduled work has been postponed.
But thanks to the magic of Google Docs, I can fail to finish off this script anywhere!
1 comment:
Oh no! Get better soon!!!
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