Curry blow-out
Ahem. I may have eaten a very large amount of creamy chicken pasanda tonight. From the curryhouse. Delivered. Not really the healthiest plan. And I may have broken Paul McKenna's golden rules by eating after I was full.
However, I have a good reason for it. A car ran into the back of me when I was coming back from an industrial tribunal (reporting on it, not being unfairly dismissed or anything).
I wasn't hurt but it's the first time I've been involved in an accident. I was pretty shook up and didn't really know what to do. Fortunately for me, about five minutes after the accident, a reporter I know on another paper who had been at the same tribunal was about to drive past when he spotted me at the side of the road. He stopped and helped me get all the details from the other driver (white van man, if you know what I'm saying) and didn't leave until I was okay to drive. Bless him.
It wasn't my car (more's the pity, it would probably have been a write-off and I might have got some dosh from the insurance) it was the work car and amazingly all that seems to have been damaged is the bumper. It felt like a pretty big shunt when he hit me. It's weird, there were a few seconds when I just knew he was going to hit me and, because I was stationary behind two other cars, there was nothing I could do about it. Quite scary, but I think I managed to remain relatively calm.
Anyway, I managed to drive the car back to the garage, and walked home (everyone had left work by then, I was kind of hoping they would be waiting for me with hot, sweet tea) and demanded tea from HF and he decided he would buy me a curry. I felt I deserved it, particularly a nice mild sweet one which would help combat the adrenaline surge.
I feel like a bit of a porker now, mind you. And after the initial rush wore off, my neck and shoulder started hurting a bit. It may be psychosomatic, but it still hurts. May have to get it checked out tomorrow.
Anyhow, seeing as I'm (sort of) injured and everything, I'm going to try and milk it as much as I can.
More on that story later.
4 Comments:
I quite like White Van Men. You see the road where I live is really busy and very difficult to cross and the only people who will ever bloody slow down to let you across are men in white vans.
Never ever ever posh women in flash cars, oh no...
Look after that neck/shoulder thing. you need them to work comfortably for the next fify years of writing and having fun.
It does seem cruel, but what a shame you weren't driving Loki :)
How nasty. It sounds like it might be a mild case of whiplash. Don't let them put a collar on you - counterproductive
No fear, GSE, no collars were mentioned. Indeed, I have been told to sit at my desk looking at the ceiling and walls (in a bit to keep my neck moving, I suppose).
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