I went to the physio tonight to get him to have a look at my foot and calves. I lay on the table while he poked and prodded my foot. Nothing he did hurt but I didn’t want to say that cos it was nice and foot massagey. He said there is no real damage, just some tissue soreness. I’m not so worried about the pain when I run, so long as I’m not causing more problems so that’s good news. He’s taped my foot and shown me how to do it in future, so I think I’ll attempt to run home from work tomorrow.
I cooked tonight – I’ve not cooked for ages. Too many meals out is not good for me. I made a stirfry for tonight plus a pot of brown rice with beans for tomorrow and some banana protein pancakes for snacks tomorrow (oh, and for dessert – yummo).
Remember I said about getting my new bed – well I dunno if I mentioned this but when I got it, I tried to put it together and the screw hole in the bed head is dodgy. I rang Forty Winks and they said they’d get the manufacturer to contact me. That was over a week ago. I rang again yesterday and they said they could do no more and I just had to wait for the manufacturer to call??? WTF! I asked for the manufacturer’s number so I could call them myself but they wouldn’t give me the number. Anyway they finally called today and the guy is coming around tomorrow. I must get organised cos I’ve got the bedhead propped up at the head of the bed (if I don’t fully have a new bed, I at least want the illusion of one). Fingers crossed it’s all stress-free tomorrow.
Oh yeah, and to make me more cross about it all, my housemate told me there was a bed around the corner in hard rubbish and I should go have a look – ie. that I should throw out my brand new bed and get one out of someone’s trash? Yeah right. I’ve got nothing against hard rubbish but seriously… He reckoned the shop would do nothing to replace my bed since they had my cash. That’s the kind of guy he is. Not me. I fully am prepared to go to Consumer Affairs, or even further if I don’t get what I want. I know my Trades Practices Act.
Plus I’m really getting pissed off because he keeps talking to me of a morning. I’m dressed in my corporate suit-y thing and running out the door to catch the train and he’s like ‘wait a minute…blah, blah, blah…’ Now I just say ‘hi’ and keep going so the other morning he followed me up the street, talking at me! Arrggghh!
Finally, I’ve been eyeing this off – not sure if it’s available in Australia, plus it’d need be in another colour. Me in orange would look like a safety barrier!
Okay – rant alert. There was a story in the Herald Sun yesterday about the unfair distribution of housework between the sexes. They highlighted one woman who’s a stay-at-home mum and does up to 8 hours of housework a day. Yeah, cry me a freaken river. Having to work 8 hours a day.
I know if I was living with some dude and I was the sole breadwinner, I’d not do a lick of housework. I’d expect a hot dinner on the table and foot massages. If we both worked, I’d expect to share the housework. Fair’s fair. If your job is being a housewife, then treat it as such.
Plus who does 8 hours of housework anyway? I’d say that’s just poor time management skills.