all is swell. all is well. alice well. ali swell.

day two and the just-pretend-it-doesn't-hurt plan is going swell. exceptionally stellar footballing yesterday in which i played marking back and midfield and striker. that's right, i played everywhere except keeper because don't be a git i am not a keeper, and no i did not play everywhere at the same time, again don't be a git. you know what i am talking about here. today held a sweet little jog up the new swath of pavement over the hill and back again. now i am hungry.

the problem with the just-pretend-it-doesn't-hurt plan is that of course it hurts, you git, but i have lost all perspective on whether it hurts because i am out of shape or it hurts because of some injury or whether it's a normal amount of hurting or more than normal and what is normal and am i merely sore or more than sore. what i am facing is a conundrum, a quandry, a riddle, enigma, a problem or puzzlement, a stumbler, a stickler, a fish head wrapped in a newspaper.

one thing i do know is that it is not a rubicon. for a long time i thought rubicon meant puzzle but i have since learned it means point of no return.