It's Called -The Law Of Averages

The Law Of Averages dictates that you have good days and bad days. A good day may mean that you aren't involved in any accidents, not even close to being involved in an accident. Such days are good they might even be great but fate likes to even up the score a little bit by throwing a spanner in the works and have days where you have many opportunities to be involved in an accident. Those are the types of day that its probably safer to stay in bed.
It turned out to be one of those days for me today. I knew it from the off. I woke up, it was winter, it was still dark my body was saying "Stay in bed." Of course I ignored it and thought about all that work I couldn't get done if I stayed in bed. So I crawled out of bed and stepped into the shower and promptly slid on excess shower gel and narrowly avoided crashing through the glass screen. Fun! Still alive I dried myself off, got dressed and walked out the door. Only to find myself almost run over by the idiot riding his motorcycle on the pavement. I narrowly avoided getting my feet run over by jumping onto a wall. I never knew I had such dexterity that early in the morning but apparently I do when my toes are at risk. Potential accident number 2 averted it was time to go to work. No sooner had I got in the van and the god of fate was playing his little games again. I got myself strapped into the seat and inched the van out of the tight parking space only to find that I obviously wasn't moving fast enough for Mr Minidriver who was determined to reverse into my space before I had the chance to move out of it.
You would think drivers of Mini's would be sensible when choosing who to have an altercation with - white van drivers wouldn't be my choice if I drove a mini but then I have more common sense than that. Personally I avoid fights that I cannot possibly win but then again I can still be an idiot. Despite managing to avoid 3 accidents I still walked straight into one, literally. Once I got to my destination without any problems I got out the van, opened up the back door, and stepped inside remembering to duck my head underneath the ceiling, only I didn't duck quite low enough. Whack!
It was a little bit painful but I checked my head and it was still attached to my neck and no blood was spilled so I carried on what I was doing. Two minutes later though and my head looked like it was trying to recreate the scene the last time that Mount Etna erupted. Blood was pouring out and using my hand to put weight on the wound didn't seem to be having much effect. Strangely enough at first I was more concerned about how I was going to get my jacket clean, there's nothing like a gaping wound in the head to discover the priorities in life. Although when I looked down on the floor of the van and realised I was standing on a puddle of blood I did take things a little more seriously.
Luckily the rugby club was open so I washed out the wound and waited for the blood to clot and went to the hospital. Where I waited for 4 hours before I was seen, getting the chance to wash the blood off my face probably wasn't so lucky after all. Eventually I got seen by a doctor with an Australian accent who stitched up my wound. Sadly I didn't get a lollipop with my stitches like I did for my last set (I was only 5 then). Instead I got the adult equivalent of the lollipop - a four hour fee for using the car park. Excuse me for not using an ambulance!
It's nice how the government kick you when you are down, free health care but only if you don't use the parking facilities. Of course I shouldn't really have drove to the hospital with a head wound but I wasn't exactly thinking straight at that point.
Anyway the reason I told you this story is so that the next time you think it would be a good idea to stay in bed you can tell yourself its not for laziness but for safety reasons.