Snapped

The last few days have not seen my mind in a positive head space. My days were spent focusing on work or brimming with anger and frustrations at the lack of feet-healing progress. You can probably imagine that the rage has taken precedent over concentrating at the job. Luckily for me though, co-workers and customers seem to be really entertained by my bitter, sarcastic comments.

Yesterday was the last day I was going to stand for it though. I could not go another day of sitting on my ass, brooding and doing nothing.

So I got on my bike and peddled. Hard. I just wanted to punish my feet, and get this anger out of me.

I had forgotten that all this non-exercise has turns my calves and thighs to weak jelly. The Me of last-summer could have biked for 2 hours, without getting much of a sweat. The Me of today could last 15 minutes before the knees were sore.

I eventually got back home, lied down, and awaited what I assumed would be my well-deserved reward of pain in my feet. It eventually throbbed its way in, but you know what? It wasn't that bad.

Come this morning, my feet are a little more tender, but it just isn't that bad. Even though my family doctor have given me a run-around on why this pain exists (i.e. he have no clue what's the problem), this gives me some hope that I'm slowly getting better.


Upon hearing this news, Kieran has invited me camping next week.

So a choice must be made next week: I should stay home, relax and keep taking it easy, BUT I want to go camping.

We've been to the spot before...and it's amazing.