Christ; That Fucking Hurt ....!

 At some indeterminate point in the small hours of this morning, following a lengthy session of alcoholic intake, I had the idea of fetching the horses some supper.

 Nothing too wrong in that. Emptying a barrel of hay into their rack is no problem. I had the good sense to put my steel capped boots on, in case Rosie trod on my foot. What could possibly go wrong?

 It doesn't seem to even get dark just now. Least, as I remember it, it was pretty light out there. That'll be how I noticed the roof .....

 Yeah. Alcohol. Roof. Two words that surely go together like carborundum and penis?

 Then, for good measure, let's throw in " Box ". Yes. Not step ladder. Box. Looking good, isn't it? Drunk man. Roof. Box. Something bad's just got to happen, surely?

 You bettcha! So, there I am. I'm stood on this fucking box, fiddling about with the stall roof above my head. And I'm pissed.

 What's the number one rule, when working off any aid to gaining height? Don't Over Reach!!! What do I do ....?

 And there I am. Falling. I went down like a felled fucking tree. Feet pretty much remained where they were as the body tilted sideways.

 It all seemed to happen so slowly that I had time to think about my plight, even as I descended toward the concrete. I thought; " Oh, FFS! Now, This is gonna fucking hurt! "

 Only, I never really hit the ground. Not at first. No. Because I caught my lower left side on the edge of a round bail feeder.

 Think; One inch, round bar. Think; Entire weight of body slamming, hard, against that. Think bouncing off, screaming. To land on knees, on concrete, screaming. 

 Spoiled my night. Come to think of it? Hasn't done a lot for my day either. I'm in fucking pain.

 Got to look on the bright side though. I landed on my left side. Gone down on my right and there's ye liver. Few inches higher up? Ribs. I could have ended up in pain, in Sligo General!

 Now I want a cup of tea. This is going to be fun. Getting up .....