It's a strange week and complicated, with some disappointments and joys that make up other. I get to the final tranche of the rehabilitation of my shoulder bloodied, but still a little sore after a month of laser, electro and ultrasound. What bothers me most of all is not knowing when I return to sports in an intense way, as I like. My doctor tells me yet if anything, to try to swim a little, to see how respond. I explain that I do not know if I will be consistent with the pool, because I'm a little rough, and not to be drenched in sweat ends do not reach the satisfaction of having done exercise. Just a couple of long, he explains, not more slowly, and within a month we come to see me again.
As I try to be obedient to the doctors, ended up buying a hat and I take a dip. It's nice, yes, and instead of a pair of long swim an hour. As I said, I am very rough, and I used to exercise until I can not anymore, but my doctor was right, the pain comes back to remind me that I should not believe that smart. In addition, I got the hat but not the glasses, and out of the pool was as if I had conjunctivitis.
Today I'm better, so I did purpose of amendment. I will try that next time is only half an hour of swimming. But still it take a few days to get back to the pool. I have to go on a trip tomorrow. I have not go out, I do not take the necessary distance and healthy routine of my office, myself, especially now in the final stretch of writing a new novel, when the most difficult is to fight wanted to finish it once. Although I enjoy being cloistered imagine playing, I realize that I miss the rush of the promotion of Last year, constant traveling, interviews in which one just so tired. I knew it would happen. Sure. It always happens.
This afternoon duty to prepare bags. I always carry more luggage count: the necessary clothing and the just in case, and too many books, also in case. I dread the idea of \u200b\u200ba delay at a station or an airport with nothing to read, a sleepless night, so often when I'm away from my bed without a book in the bedside table so as not to spend hours staring at the ceiling hotel room in the dark. Tomorrow, when you need to carry books, and I regret it because they are too, but today I can not help find a hole in the trunk. I'm a bit gross, yes. But I think I've said before.
© Andrés Pérez Domínguez, January 2011