The diary of a hypochondriac who has only two types of luck: bad and none at all.
Guess who?
Yep, that’s right.
I will give you a snapshot of a recent week that I endured and all around me suffered.
I started getting the flu a couple of Saturdays ago after a long drive back from the Gold Coast.
The following day, it had well and truly arrived – coincidentally, 12 months to the day that I first got COVID (another one for the conspiracy theorists).
So I had about four days of whingeing, coughing, sputtering and more whingeing until finally, on the Thursday afternoon, I started to feel better.
Old Mate quickly identified this and asked me if I could pot some plants for her.
Awesome.
We have pot plants bloody everywhere, but apparently we need more.
So after an hour or so, she had created about four more – one of which was the size of a bunya pine in a big clay pot, which she instructed me to place under a tree in the most awkward spot in the yard.
As I wrestled with it … bang!
My back went out and I squealed in pain.
Her reaction was: “What a shame, but can you still shift the other ones?”
Funny how my flu symptoms instantly disappeared as I now concentrated on walking around like a half-open pocket knife.
A couple of days later it improved enough for me to walk and ride my pushbike – carefully, of course.
So I decided to ride it to the Cowboys v Broncos NRL game nearby.
I ended up having a couple of beers and left the footy a happy camper until I got on my bike and found that my rechargeable light was as flat as a tack.
“No drama – that’s what street lights are for,” I thought as I rode off.
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But then I decided to take the canal pathway and turned instantly into the temporary car park for the footy.
I failed to notice that the driveway was covered in sand and gravel.
Down I went, right in front of the attendant who got a massive laugh out of my cartwheeling entrance.
Instantly, my back was better.
My shoulder and elbow were now the centre of my attention.
By the way, this will be the first Old Mate has heard of this when she reads this column and will explain why I was so quiet when I got home.
Ashley Robinson is a columnist with Sunshine Coast News and My Weekly Preview. His views are his own.
