As a rule I don't believe in luck at all. Neither the good nor the bad variety.
Yet this lifelong belief is coming into question. Last night, taking out the bins for collection, I tripped over my slippers, which are a little long for my admittedly small feet. The result was my right hand hitting the pavement with an awful thud, followed by my shoulder and hip. This morning, my hand is next to useless; my hip doesn't seem to function properly and to cap it all, the stitches from where the melanoma was hacked from my left wrist, have become infected.
And I still haven't had my results from the lab.
I am, however, beginning to believe in the age-old story, probably spread by right-handed people, that left-handed people (that's me) are intrinsically clumsy.
This is the first time I've said this after a year of lockdown - that it's probably a good thing I'm not working at the moment.
And I've been issued a fine from HMRC for not sending in my tax accounts for last year, even though I haven't been self employed for years. I'll soon put a stop to that. Is it a cosmic law that only imbeciles work for the government? It certainly seems that way.
No comments:
Post a Comment