Tickets, Money, Passport?

Saw the Strictly Come Dancing Tour last night, courtesy of work. Finally a perk of the job. It was lots of fun and we ensured we made as much as we could of the free bar, the Worlds Slowest Lifts at the O2 notwithstanding. It really was a bit shambolic. And they wouldn't let us use the VIP VIP lifts cos that was for proper stars. "Hello Victoria Wood" so we were shoe-horned into the other one going at a snails pace. Our favourite bit of the post-show drinkies was Daniella Westbrook taking a photo of her daughter with Zoe Ball. I tried to get my foot in it but I'm not sure I succeeded.

Speaking of feet, what a neat segue, my ankle is still pretty rubbish. It's becoming a bit tiring, the lack of healing going on. The bruising is rather good. I know I should probably go to the doctor but they'll just say 'rest it' and quite frankly that's a waste of my time and theirs. But it still hurts. *pulls sad face*

Funny how when your mobility is hampered you start to feel a bit vulnerable. I realised that I really couldn't run and walking through town the other night I suddenly thought if I was chased or mugged, I'd be fucked. Not that I'm some kind of Black Mamba when I'm not lame.



Or maybe I am.