Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Notes from the survivor

Christmas started strange. Mom was asking, What has happened to you? (Here the story would require adding someting like 'and poked me with her toes' but this is not a short story but a brief account of what happened) and I wondered. Who the hell is that You from the question, why cannot she shut up and ask someone competent and why there's the bathroom floor tiles sticking to my face. And, last but not least, why my ankle so fucking hurts.
When I regained even more consciousness, I discovered that I am indeed lying on the bathroom floor, I have a terrible headache* and I hit the edge of the step with my inner ankle and the cupboard with my head. I went to the bathroom because I was thirsty and for some reason, I fainted.
The rest of the morning I spent mostly lying on the bathroom floor because (a) the tiles felt so nice and cooling (b) I had an urgent feeling that I will puke and the end of the world will come. I don't remember feeling that awfully sick in my life.
Then we went shopping. Not that we'd buy anything special but I needed raisins for my baking and Mom needed whatever for whatever - I recall buying some anti-wrinkle crap set for my aunt and gianduiotti for me (it's the nougat from Torino. Drool).

It settled later and even the cold (it was an awful cold, folks) went away. Next time I'll hit my ankle, it apparently works. I spent the whole Saturday and Sunday lazying around, Mom told me to rest and not make any fast movements so I settled with Peter Englund's book and read. And made the Christmas pudding which is not a local tradition but we're a cosmopolitan family and since I didn't manage to bake the Finnish gingerbread thingies.....

I did the tree decorating. This year we didn't get any decorations, they don't stock the blown glass ones in Tesco anymore, bastards, and I'm afraid that all the glassworks will go bankrupt because all the idiots buy the Chinese crap which is ugly, plastic and cheap.

I got a gift voucher. My father buys gifts on the 24th.... so I got a book called something like The Basics of Macrophotography. Most of it was basics of photography and basics of photoshopping. Oddly enough, I've been earning my living with photography and photoshopping for years so that's a sucky gift - but apart from leaving everything to the last minute, my father has a peculiar sense of humour so he added a gift voucher for 'one pc. of macro lens redeemable after reading the book'. I should remind my gracious dad that I have a Pentax. Just in case, I know my people.

*my sweet and gracious father would say Horrid are the mornings of the drunks but I didn't have hangover. I hadn't drank anything that would justify the state so the theory is that I was just plainly ill.

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