It’s been so long. I’d say too long but that would be both clichéd and ignoring the fact that it’s pretty true to (recent) form. I’m currently on my third day of bed-rest after falling rather spectacularly on my face in Garema Place on Thursday while rushing my sister to the doctor. The irony that it’s her who assisted me to the doctor and who has been re-wrapping my multi-coloured ankle these last couple of days is not lost on me.
My outlook (like the weather) is considerably sunnier than Thursday as it appears my foot is likely not fractured (yay!) and thus will require neither an x-ray or surgical intervention. Which is lucky, as I don’t know if I can go back into the medical imaging centre, having burst into great sobbing tears when they asked me to sign a waiver for radiation exposure during pregnancy (detailing in fairly alarming detail the likelihood of birthing Blinky The Three Eyed Fish in consequence). Then again, it had been an emotionally fraught morning, sans breakfast.
That latter part may be key.
So anyway. I’ve just finished watching, over a day and a half, Game of Thrones season six. Surprisingly, for a show full of guts and gore, watching improved my mood dramatically. After all, its definitely no longer winter here (a garden full of cherry blossom, wattle and incessantly chirping birds attests) and resting said foot on white-linen pillows is significantly better than dying violently in mud - which happens a lot in GoT s6.
In other recent news, J and I went to trivia on Tuesday night with some Canberra friends, which was all kinds of surprising fun. I am useless at trivia and have no real interest in it, but it was a fine excuse to eat deliciously bad-for-you food so there’s that.
And that was after a week in New Zealand. Part holiday, part family-sight seeing, it was both lovelier and less relaxing than lying on a beach with a book by yourself (or at least the idea of doing such; in reality I can never get comfortable, twist and turn too much and suddenly am covered in sand which sticks to the sunscreen except for that spot I missed which always somehow horrifically burnt).
We did make it to some exceptionally wonderful thermal hot springs (Wairakei Terraces) at Taupo as well as staying at a hilariously decorated (think, fairy lights, white velour bedside tables) but spotlessly clean joint called Vu Thermal Lodge which also came equipped with its own mineral bore-fed hot tubs. Thoroughly recommend both, should you ever be in the North Island in need serious relax.
It was still ridiculously nice to have a break from the whole ‘actual life’ thing… so much so that I’m now on board with the previously ridiculed concept of a ‘Babymoon.’ (Though I do think I still have too much pride to mention this reversal in contempt to my partner, so it will very likely remain an unrealised ambition.)
Actual life, speaking of, with its four uni subjects, two days’ work a week and getting fatter each and everyday, is biting a little at the moment. I feel both manifestly behind (in everything except the fattening which I suspect I might be a tad too good at) and unable to catch up due to being forever bone-tired. Other pregnant people keep telling me how they take naps to get through the day, which sounds nice but honestly. Who has the time?
So at least this enforced bed-rest has given me the excuse to work through my unopened box sets and tackle the essay-excess of doing two art-theory courses (both actually deeply interesting). I’ve also written up an interview I did with a scarily impressive ceramic artist for a terrifyingly well-regarded ceramics mag, so now fingers-crossed hoping both artist and editor appreciate my efforts. Such as they are.
For now, though, a Doctor Who marathon while writing a presentation on the Bauhaus in Australia. Ahah. #multitasking