So where did *this* damn bruise come from?

One of the most intriguing aspects of rehearsals has to be the appearance of totally inexplicable bruises and scrapes.  I was going to say "unexpected appearance", but after a few productions I've come to expect them.  I dare say that in the days when we just got happy and fat (if there were any such), lumbered on stage and sang looking up to the audience from the sweet point on the stage, this wasn't the case, but nowadays... oh yeah. 

I approached the rehearsal stage rather carefully today, having managed to hurl myself rather spectacularly from my bike a couple of days ago.  (Nothing serious; skinned knee and elbow.  Can't imagine how I have got away unscathed in four years of cycling here previously, especially given the prevalence of lightning-quick toddlers darting through parked cars.)

Anyway, scraped knees and elbows are pretty much par for the course, given that cycling has been my chosen mode of transport for more than four years now.  However, looking them over, it was rather amusing how many other unnoticed bashes and scrapes they joined and blended into happily on a social level. 

I mean, seriously, how on EARTH did I get a dark-blue double-centred bruise on my upper thigh in the last couple of days??  There's no way any of the action in the opera I'm rehearsing (usually the culprit) or anything that's running is to blame.  

Just has to be the rehearsal genie to blame.   Not going to go there as concerns howling with laughter and throwing oneself all over the stage at the slightest opportunity.  Absolutely nothing to do with this particular topic.

Definitely.

And that's all I have to say . . .