| Sunk |
[Apr. 25th, 2003|08:26 am] |
You know that sinking feeling you get when you've screwed up and you totally know the world would be a better place if someone took you outside and shot you? I got it last night when I dropped one end of the futon on my broken foot as we were setting it up to lounge on. Lucky me got away lightly - it bounced off the top, skinning it, but didn't actually hurt any.
Tonight I'm supposed to go to the Mayor's charity gala dinner. I'm cancelling. Can't face it - going to stay in with Lisa and watch Withnail and I instead. |
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| Hesitant |
[Apr. 25th, 2003|07:23 pm] |
| [ | Feeling |
| | pensive | ] |
| [ | Reading |
| | Linda Barnes, The Snake Tattoo. | ] |
Being less mobile and travelling on public transport has given me a new perspective on things, I think.
I'm used to just breezing my way through journeys. I walk fast, I'm confident in crowds and although I'm not built like the proverbial brick outhouse I was once described as looking like "a bit of a bruiser" so people generally don't barge into me. Because I'm careful not to throw my weight around and usually hold doors open for people and give up seats and so on, I don't see myself as one of the 'problem' people and I guess I assume I'm pretty average in my levels of confidence and so on.
But these last two days, hobbling around on this excuse for a foot, have given me a different perspective. Instead of plunging along pavements and through crowded ticket halls in an arrow-straight line, safe in the knowledge I could dodge anyone who didn't dodge me first, I've been crawling along as people have flooded past and around me in a great tide. I've shied away from anyone who's even looked like they might come close to treading on my foot. I've had to pick my route with care. Someone - a young black businessman - offered me his seat on a bus. I've even caught people watching my limp with curious sympathy, then jerking their eyes away from me when I spot them. In short, all my able-bodied-male-in-the-prime-of-his-life confidence has evaporated.
Is this what it's like to be elderly? Is this what it's like to be disabled?
I don't think I like it much. |
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