A foolish assumption

It was foolish of me to assume that the few weeks leading up to my trip to the US would gradually slow down as I tied up all remaining loose ends. It was a foolish assumption. I know that now. It's possible that I'll make it to America incident-free, but at this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if I got wiped off the face of the Earth by a meteor shower... fingers crossed that that doesn't happen.

Of all the things that I need to do over the next week until departure, I'd have to say that the one I'm 'looking forward' to the most is the YMCA Charity Run this weekend - and not because it's the best excuse for me to wear a cowboy hat and chaps out in public in the middle of the day (like I even need an excuse...). I've been guilted into participating by the company I work for part-time, and when I told the lady in the company who has been charged with recruiting / brow-beating / blackmailing people into being a part of the team, that I dislocated my knee, her first response was not "How are you? Are you ok?"; it was "So what are you saying? You can't run?" Overwhelmed by the depth and sincerity of her concern, I could feel tears welling in my eyes... Of course, it could have been because I had shifted my weight to the aforementioned injured knee without realising it. So it turns out that I'll be running this weekend...

On the plus side, by running in the Charity Run (a shin-fracturing 1.8km), I'll surely find out whether I did develop a blood clot through the dislocation (which has been worrying me a bit given my impending flight) because, no doubt, all that blood pumping will surely push the little sucker (if it exists) into my brain, and then my obituary can say that I gave my life to help charity. The downside being that my parents, given their warped sense of humour, would probably end up playing the Village People's "YMCA" at the service...

I'm sitting in a cafe writing this, waiting an excruciatingly long time for a dentist appointment. It's going to be a painful experience. Sure, I'll get anesthesia, but I have a natural immunity to it, and it usually takes a double dose and an extra 30 minutes before it kicks in. But the dentists never believe me the first time I visit them, and it usually only take 5 minutes of drilling into my nervous system and me screaming like a hyena before that realise that I wasn't kidding. It always happens. Without fail.

So, in summary, I will be going to America next week provided that my shins don't fracture, my knee doesn't shatter, a blood clot doesn't lodge in my brain, I don't die from traumatic shock to the nervous system in my gums or get hit by a meteor shower...

P.S. Just came back from the dentist. Guess who needs root canal! O ho, what fun!