also known as falling off your bike for the first time in about 15 years.
Yes, I actually fell off my bike this afternoon when I was cycling to trampolining class when I went round a corner and my back wheel slid out from under me on a patch of mud. I skinned my knee, hurt my palm a bit and bled everywhere, but nothing that wont heal and form a badass scab...
And, AND! I didn't cry at all and I even went to trampolining even though I fell off my bike. Because I am A Big Girl.
Admittedly, I did go "Aaaaargh! Owwwwww!" and glance around to see if anyone was there to look worried and ask if they could help/call an ambulance/give me a cuddle/kiss it better, but sadly I was alone and my manly whimpering went unheeded.
My bike feels weird, though - all wibbly and unsteady (or is that just me?) so it's a trip to the bike shop to have it checked over and my front brake fixed again (remember how the kids playfully sabotaged my brakes? Well, they're still dodgy).
In other news, last night I went to the Tall Tales Oscars with Lovely Kal, at the Scottish Storytelling Centre on the Royal Mile. It was a fun night where storytellers competed to tell the best tall tale, for the honour of winning a trophy shaped like a gnome. Lots of jokes and very good fun, and obviously good company.
Tomorrow I have about 4,000 people coming over to value the flat, give estimates for work and so on, I have to get a passpor application form because my passport's still in my maiden name, have lots of passport pictures taken, and other wee jobs like that. I also need to make another appointment with my lovely doctor as my voice is still fucked, and I think I'm in need of a higher dose of anti-depressants. Training in the evening, and sorted.