It’s sunday already. I’m on my way to the physiotherapist and then the gym. I hope she’s gonna say that my ankle is back to perfect but I know she won’t.
We had a great night here yesterday, movies, snacks and wine. I feel….flabby, a fatso so to say.
But most of all I would like to catch a flight to England, meet up with the guys in my team and join the tour. I’m supposed to be there and now I can’t, it sucks big time. That’s what bothers me, that’s what makes me low and down. And that’s what makes me go to the fucking physiotherapist every time she tells me to.
Huggies and kisses
/Michel