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Before and one week after, note saggy neck.
Boy Racers, My Hero and the Dangerous Sandwich
So after 12 days in captivity Husband and me ventured to local wine bar. It felt like a big adventure. But I nstalled at our favourite table with chilled Sauvingon in hand the picture was all wrong, the music thundered in my ears, everyone was laughing too loudly and the [RS bleep] of ice from the cocktail shaker sounded like an avalanche in my brain. I had an overwhelming feeling of nausea coupled with the distinct feeling that a machete wielding maniac had sliced into the back of my head, in reality it was just a smiling barman, an innocent tray in hand.
We got out of there pronto for the short walk back home, as we crossed the road a delivery boy peddling at a rate of knots raced past me, close enough to move my hair, way too close for a lady 12 days after having major surgery, I admit it, I screamed like a girl in a Hitchcock horror movie.
Husband donned his Superman costume and ran after delivery boy, leaving me trembling and cold on the pavement, when I caught up with them I heard manly admonishments by Husband followed by apology from youth with dangling ear plugs.
The machete slice got worse and I felt myself slipping into that dark underwater void into a faint, my hero flagged down a cab instantly and got me home to 'safety'.
With little appetite for dinner i plumped for a chicken sandwich, making the grave mistake of adding salt, within minutes my lovely new eyes reverted back to old swollen hooded eyes and jawline melted into round space hopper face, DONT ADD SALT, people.
What am I up to tomorrow evening? Staying home I think.....
We got out of there pronto for the short walk back home, as we crossed the road a delivery boy peddling at a rate of knots raced past me, close enough to move my hair, way too close for a lady 12 days after having major surgery, I admit it, I screamed like a girl in a Hitchcock horror movie.
Husband donned his Superman costume and ran after delivery boy, leaving me trembling and cold on the pavement, when I caught up with them I heard manly admonishments by Husband followed by apology from youth with dangling ear plugs.
The machete slice got worse and I felt myself slipping into that dark underwater void into a faint, my hero flagged down a cab instantly and got me home to 'safety'.
With little appetite for dinner i plumped for a chicken sandwich, making the grave mistake of adding salt, within minutes my lovely new eyes reverted back to old swollen hooded eyes and jawline melted into round space hopper face, DONT ADD SALT, people.
What am I up to tomorrow evening? Staying home I think.....
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