2001-05-26, 2:18 p.m.

O then come kisse me, sweet and twentie

back & forth

Arm is taking a pronounced down-turn. On wednesday morning, woke up (yes, hung over. I had polished off a bottle of South African Chardonnay and a bottle of Prosecco the night before) woke up with a shooting pain up and down it. Went to the emergency room in the afternoon, sat around for a while, had an X-ray, saw the orthopedist, who explained to me that, yes, it was painful, my pins were slipping, too bad.

At that point, I could deal with it. But it got steadily worse and so I went back to the hospital on friday (missing work, although KK and KP are merciful and let me). My orthopedic surgeon was unspeakably rude to me for wasting his time. I explained things had got worse, and he brushed me off. So I'm (grrrrr) finding another doctor. It's a long weekend here, so I won't hear from my GP until tuesday, and then an appointment with another specialist won't happen for another couple of days. In the meantime, I can feel the pins in my arms and make my friends absolutely miserable bitching about it.

In other news, although directly resulting from the above, I'm feeling undershaved, underfed, undersmart. Under. Don't really feel like going out (although I certainly do. What debauchery! I got too tiddled to take home my Special Prize Glass the other night. It's still presumably at Ch*rl**'s waiting for me.)

Good bands are playing here this summer. The Early Music Festival's almost here (have I bought tickets yet?). The sun is shining. Why the hell am I inside?

love hereafter,

alastair