I suspect I’m too tense for what I’m about to do.

Today, bloggers, I was foolish, I said yes! to ice skating, breaking a vow I made after the last time. Years ago, when I was fearless and supple and I clearly didn’t know how else to cause myself harm (drugs were too expensive), I used to ice skate twice a week at the local ice rink with an equally supple but even more fearless friend. They’d play young people music and we’d get high on the ice and the smells and the sheer physical effort of it. Of course one day they were playing something by the Beastie Boys, someone got excited, pushed me and I went flying across the rink, and splat! smashed various parts of my body. No, I didn’t get back on the bleeding proverbial horse immediately after the fall, I was broken, I’ve told you. The Beastie boys have made me hyperventilate since then. Today, clearly in an attempt to finish me off after all those years, the same still supple and fearless friend is dragging me skating. I considered full body bubble-wrapping.

Kneepads – checks.
Gloves – check.
Woolly hat – check.
Flask of mulled wine – check.


I’m ready to go.

It’s been nice knowing you.