Mr Emu is sleeping so I daren’t wake him to tell him I now know that the infamous ‘Jizz Day’ is on Monday...! Taking matters in to his own hand has been an amusing topic of conversation this time round since we were faced with potential issues there after no eggs fertilised in February. This means our transfer will be Thursday.
I’d best start packing! After I’ve been to A&E... 🙈 I can strongly advise that running down the corridors at work - in wedges - is not the wisest of moves. My ankle is bruised and swollen and I had pins and needles last night but they seem to be less this morning just throbbing a little. Surely I’d know if I’d broken it?!?!
Anyway, as a precaution Mr Emu is going to throw me out of the car (probably quite literally as he gets so mad with me for being clumsy) at Leeds A&E this morning on his was to taking his mum to chemotherapy. He’s also more or less thrown my wedges in the bin. I debated telling Mr Yorkshire how much they cost in hope that he’d think twice... but I decided against that as he shouted (lovingly and worryingly) “what happens if you can’t fly?! I’m not going to Cyprus on my own for a w*nk!”
Here’s me and my peas yesterday.
x