Last night I had so much trouble sleeping, as my plague-touched mind kept running through rugby scenarios (you're in a tackle, place the ball, get up off the ground, get back in the game, hit the ruck, back ten for a penalty, etc etc) and refused to settle down for some rest. Then at 7am I inexplicably woke up again, and the brain went straight back into rugby mode.
Sigh.
So I got up and did my gay class readings and found some breakfast and was internally whiny about how miserable I was (I have some sort of cold/flu/plague thing) and then packed up my shit for - another day of rugby! PRU U23 tryouts.
Three or four hours of passing drills and contact drills and scrumming and lineouts and full-on scrimmaging. I almost completely forgot about the plague and threw myself into it and I think I did okay. Wasn't my best playing ever - I couldn't hold onto the ball for love or money in one of the drills, my tackles were too high in the scrimmage, and I had some trouble locking - got folded in half by an amazing opposing prop.
Well, selections are supposed to be out by 6:30... I will sit here, plaguey and sore, and wait.
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