the days of the Swollen Ankle shall come to past...

It's pretty hard to find time to blog. It's not that my hands are not efficient or slow, and I am proud to say that my pair of small humble hands can at least play 7.5 sets of sixteenths strokes per minute more than the average person. Or more. I don't know. 7.5 looked like a nice number.
But for my feet, I'm not too sure. Playing drums without the bass is weird. MUSIC, without bass, IS weird. But I think my neighbours at blk 63 would have to contend with drumplays without the kick bass for at least another 2 weeks until my ankle fully recovers.

I've finally removed the ankle bandage which reeks of herbs and mysteriously smells of fried salted fish. Joking la, please, I don't have athlete's foot!
Finally my right foot was able to have its deserved access to oxygen. The swelling's gone down quite alot, just a small lump below the ball of my ankle left. I can't wait. Can't wait to go running, go blading, go SHOPPING and kick the bass with all my might.

I went shopping anyways. Brought my mom out last week, wanted to treat her to dinner, but in the end, I had to ask her to pay my dinner for me cos I didn't have money left after shopping. HEY. I bought my mom two pairs of shoes and my dad, a branded shirt ok! oh well. I bought myself one pair of shoes, versatile enough to look funky, smart and formal. for only $16.90! It's good to sow into my parents' life. Yes, I can take the lead in changing their lives.

Oh back to my sprained ankle. How did I sprain it? I'm too ashamed to say that it was not because of an adrenaline rush during a heated basketball game, not because I was running for my life from a malicious looking stranger, not even because I was too mesmerised staring at some hot dude walking along Orchard Road.

I missed my foot's landing while I was walking down my flat's staircase (in my usual ganjeong-flustered-rush-here-rush-there self), reaching into my bag to get my handphone, when the world began to whirl around me in that split moment. The uncle who was climbing down the stairs, looked down at the exasperated me inquisitively and asked, "Girl, are you ok?" I simply laughed at my foolishness and told him I was fine. His wife came out of the unit, where I landed outside. A typical Peranakan makcik response, "Aiyoh, sayang.. why like that.."
I was amused by myself.
Then the pain set in.
Made a wrong choice by going to the sinseh at my neighbourhood. This is the first time in my life of my 3 sprained ankle incidents that I see a sinseh. And it is also the first time it took more than a week to heal. Dang. I don't think he had the skills to treat a sprained ankle.
Nevertheless, I'm much better now. Thank God.