<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d3200994\x26blogName\x3dDreadful+Nonsense\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://shazzle.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_GB\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://shazzle.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d7615377689624956874', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

I'm not making this up

I don't believe in God. I don't believe in fate. I'm almost entirely superstitious-free (apart from when I'm on an airplane). Most importantly, I don't believe in karma. Which is good, because if I was a believer in karma, I'd have to really think about what I did to deserve what happened to me on Tuesday

On Tuesday, a chimney fell on my head.

I'm not going to go into the details of how or why it happened, because it happened at work, and I'm not supposed to blog about anything to do with work. Also, the details of the accident, who was at fault, and why it ever happened are all being argued about between the respective insurers of the respective parties involved, and because I work for an excellent law firm who know exactly how to kick some large corporate ass, I'm not going to hurl myself into the middle of it all.

However, the things I've learned from this experience are detailed below:

1. I'm a screamer.
One thing I've never been sure about was whether or not, in times of crisis, I'd be one of those people who stares on-coming death mutely in the face, and bows down to the inevitability of it all. Turns out, I'm not. Turns out, I'm a screamer. I didn't know this, but on Tuesday, as various bits of masonry came down through the ceiling and landed on my head and hands, I let out a blood curdling screech that Jamie Lee Curtis would have been proud of and which, apparently, could be heard on the floor below. I'm pretty proud of that.

2. Riding in an ambulance isn't as much fun as you might think.
Mind you, I didn't merit the full siren treatment, so it might have been more fun if I had. But, since I was strapped down on a back board with a neck brace and the full works, all I could think about was "Ow! Ow! Ow!" every time we went around a corner. Those things are not built for comfort, let me tell you.

3. I touch my head quite a lot.
Seriously, until you have a lump the size of Guernsey growing out of the right hand side of your head, I don't think you realise how often you mess with your hair.

4. My brain has a very good sense of humour.
For the last two days, I've had Last Night I Nearly Died by the excellent Duke Special playing on a constant loop in my head. I didn't even realise I knew all the words until now.

5. It's not the tetanus injection itself that hurts.
It's the ache that follows about two hours after the injection, sets up home in the muscle in your arm and refuses to go away. Two days later, and it still feels like an elephant has been using the muscle in my arm as a jump rope.

6. Everyone's a personal injury law expert.
The quotes I've had for what I could get in compensation range from £1,000 to £50,000.

7. I must really eat more cake.
The first thing I did once I got home from the hospital - after lying down for about two hours and watching two episodes of Buffy Season 5 to calm me the hell down - was go up the bakers and buy some of their donuts. I've wanted to eat their donuts since we moved into our Nest'O'Love almost two years ago now, but never got round to it because I was worried about getting fat. For fuck's sake. I'd've died at work, and left behind a marvellously svelte corpse. What would have been the point of that?


Post a Comment