Back on the Chain Gang

Saturday afternoon Matt picked me up from the hospital. He wouldn’t allow me to visit my bike on our way home. He said it was fine and that it just needed a trim in the shop. I chose to stay naïve and went into the taxi. In the backseat Matt put his arm around my shoulders and told me that I should just relax and recuperate.

Sunday Spidey woke me early in the morning with burnt toast and dry cheese on the side. He crunched away and slurped his coffee in the middle of my bed. I tried to convince him to use a plate but he ignored me. Matt finally took his duvet and left for the sofa in the living room.

Sunday passed slowly. We stayed in our jim-jams all day and snuggled under our covers. I toured the sofa, the armchair and then back to the sofa. I made brief detours to the kitchen for snacks, drinks and fruit. We watched old sitcoms on dvd and barely spoke except for the odd laughter now and again.

Monday came and I was forced to take the train because the bike was still in the shop. Derailment in the middle of the night meant delays in the rush hour and super crowded carriages. To top it off, it was raining heavily and everybody smelt like wet dog.

Only 45 minutes late at work, I checked my emails and there were lots and lots and lots. The downside of being run over and missing a day’s work is that people won’t forgive silence unless you specify how come you are not able to serve them an answer immediately.

J-Man: You’ve been quiet for some time. That’s not like you. Have you gone away on holiday?

I blushed and I wanted to frame the email and send him all my love and tell him that he’s the best thing in my life apart from UniCorn. But then I woke up to reality check.

There were questions that needed to be answered and jobs to be looked after ASAP. Then a bite from the packed lunch that Matt and Spidey had prepared especially for me because apparently I needed my strength back after being hospitalised for less than 24 hours. And lots of fluid so trips to the bathroom inconveniently broke my routines.

Spidey met me after hours and took me home. I popped a couple of pills to avoid sickness but I managed to get a migraine from the cross-town swinging trip. He surprised me by stopping at the bike shop and I got my bike back. It’s scarred and fragile, but like me it’ll get back on its wheels in no time and then we’ll take on the world again. It takes more than a lorry to kill us off. Hopefully.

Tuesday turned into a sweatshop day with arguments with TheBoss, numerous mails to J-Man, brief communication with Ace, all work related, not a word out of place. More arguments with TheBoss. Cancelled meetings, correspondence with people who forget their promises from last week and now we’re not prepared properly for a meeting on Thursday. More mails to J-Man. No more mails to Ace.

And now. Tuesday evening. Music on. The boys are in the kitchen, gossiping about who knows what. We’ll meet up in the living room in half an hour to watch telly together. Don’t know what’s on. I count the days to Saturday because I miss UniCorn terribly. But first I need to get this week over and done with.