Aaah. Joy to the World indeed. Just when you think you’ve survived the festive madness unscathed (and faintly financially intact), the fucking geyser breaks, your car requires a large amount of Ront to not leak on your foot and you get a colossal ear infection.
Or at least I do.
The rot began early in 200Great (oh yes, thanks The Cape Times for that corker). After a fairly quiet New Year at home scoffing delicious roast chicken and getting squiffy on a bottle of bubbly, I woke up to a shorting electricity board. Much brow-wrinkeling and prodding later, we deduced it was the geyser. Being New Year’s Day, I resigned myself to a cold water day. Fortunately, I have a rockin’ “man what does” type of guy who sorted me out with a lovely electrician on day 2. Geyser element replaced and only one cold bath needed.
By then my ear hurt.
Over 5 days, I needed two visits to the Doc, one course of antibiotics, three types of cortisone and a fuckin’ huge Voltaren injection in my arse for the pain. The Pain. THE PAIN. Ear buds were responsible apparently. I’ve burnt every single remaining one in my house. Never, never, ever again! (Although, to be fair, I’ve never been so quick to bare my bum for a stranger before…)
So, in a bid to really enjoy my last week of leave (note the dripping sarcasm) I’ve been stuck in my house for the last week, writhing in agony and unable to sleep on my right side, which upset the natural order of the universe. Unable to wash my hair. Unable to watch TV. Unable to chat happily on the phone. Unable to chew much more than mush. Basically unable to do much more than whimper miserably. Stuck at home because on top of it all, I decided to finally get that tiny rust patch on my lower windscreen sorted…to the tune of R1, 400. *sob*.
Fortunately, I could still read. Tim Winton’s The Turning and the graphic novel “Gunslinger Born” (ta KC) being my top reads for the season!
And now, I’m back at work. And secretly quite pleased. Amazing what a bit of a change in perspective will do for you.
Oh, and I discovered that swimming in pond scum ain’t that bad. Christmas at the farm was bliss bliss bliss. I did laugh…my step mother had this peak, which made me giggle. Although I could tell her why. (For those of you who don’t know, La Dolce Vita means “The Good Life”, so apt, my friends, apt!)
Vive la 2008 cherubs.