On my own two feet

By the end of today, I should be walking again. Well, hobbling, anyway, and probably still with the assistance of a crutch or stick – but soon I’ll be going to the fracture clinic, and I expect to be told that I can stop wearing the funny boot. To be honest, I’m a little bit frightened; I think it’s going to hurt a lot. And then I’ll have to start tidying up the mess my house has become.

Meanwhile, I’ve been getting on with the things I can do. Lots of writeups on Monday, and a session with carers at a hospice, which went really well. On Tuesday Autoglass came to fit a new windscreen on my car, so I don’t have to worry about that any more, and I did lots of stuff on the prison project evaluation; later in the week I wrote a full report, which took a while. I don’t mind doing evaluations; I really think it’s important to examine what’s been done and see how it could be better. Also, it seems that work in the prison will continue, if only for two evenings a month. In the evening I went to see The Croods, which was fun though a bit predictable – but as always with animated films nowadays I look at how they make fur and hair so realistic, and I’m lost in wonder. How do they do this stuff? And what an amazing job it must be, working as an animator.

But I have a wonderful job, too. On Wednesday I worked at the hospital, and spoke to two lovely women, who were both delighted with the poems we created and sent me emails of thanks later, saying that working with me had really given their days a lift. Excellent! Afterwards I did some supermarket shopping, and then I was exhausted. This made me feel a bit down – why should I get worn out from doing a couple of little things that I would normally take in my stride? Probably because I don’t have much of  a stride to take them in, I suppose. I had to rest for a bit, then I did the hospital writeups, and in the evening had the dress rehearsal for my play (which is on this Sunday!) We had a few people in to watch, and the cast were nervous, and it really wasn’t a good rehearsal. That didn’t bother me, really. There’s always one bad rehearsal and it serves as a useful reminder that everyone has to keep working at it; it focuses people’s minds. We had another rehearsal last night which was much, much better; they will be fine.

On Wednesday I dealt with loads of emails, and filled in a big questionnaire about some of the work I do.

On Friday I emailed about another work possibility and finished the prison report, and did my last ever monthly report for the prison where I used to be writer in residence. Shame.

And over the weekend I’ve done hardly anything. Actually, that’s not true – I’ve spent a lot of time working on my new selected poems book. It’s coming on well. But I didn’t go out anywhere or do any Easter-y sort of things.

And very soon it will be time for me to stand on my own two feet and put my best foot forward, and all that. If only my bum would stop hurting!

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