Lameness (and not in the American sense)

This will be another short entry.

I still can't walk. Have been recumbent for most of the day, occasionally hopping/crawling/slithering around the house whenever I need something.

Consequently, I have been reading a lot of fic. It's one of the few fun things I can do when my feet are elevated above the level of my head.

When my parents came home, they suggested a trip to casualty. Well, my mother did. Pedar was against that, and provided medication. A combination of paracetamol, ibuprofen and something-something-acid.

I mention the pill because they hit me collectively like a tonne of bricks while I was talking to hathy_col this afternoon. I totally zoned out. More spaced than... space. Completely off my fucking rocker, in fact. Lalalala.

Which explains the fact the cliché!fic has suddenly started coming along in leaps and bounds. Apparently I can only write when I'm out of my head.

I'm hungry. It's one thirty in the morning. I will now have to spend the next twenty minutes dragging myself into the kitchen and then up to bed. It might have been easier to go to casualty, in fact.