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Enough is enough...

Words from a Bird.  Day 41
 
In my opiate crazed brain, I am not sure whether this is in fact Day 41, so if you feel either shortchanged or in the money where days are concerned, you can blame me!
 
The broken rib is making writing humour tricky.  You're not meant to laugh at your own jokes, but my blog invariably makes me giggle sometimes, so it's with a 'dog chewing a wasp' face that I write.  The pain I can cope with.  I am a mother, for goodness sake, I've had worse.  But here's what I can't cope with...

1. No laughing, of any kind, whether a gentle titter or large guffaw.  Forget it, it's not going to happen.
2. No coughing - great...I'm asthmatic.  Better increase my meds to counter any problems.
3. Can't take meds as I can't breathe in.  This just gets better..
4. No sniffing...mmmmmm, I am a lady so don't tend to sniff. (Doesn't mean I wouldn't like to though, given half a chance)
5. NO SNEEZING....this situation has not arisen as yet, so I am not sure what would happen if I did.  I have visions of a nuclear test site every time I think about it...
6. The worst bit is the lovely grating bone on bone noise I get when I make an ill thought out move.  Nice..
 
So, having spent all of yesterday in bed, catching up on the night before, at 4.00am, I am upright, though listing quite severely, and ready to write. 
 
The remaining men in my house have become my carers, which under different circumstances would be quite lovely.  However, as the most I can face at the moment is water, their job list is quite short.  I am anticipating extending their responsibilities to cooking, cleaning and ironing before the end of tomorrow.  Let's milk it....
 
I am also going to claim for a 'Have you been injured in the workplace?' payment.
 
Well, I was in the kitchen...

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