I’m a wreck. Emotionally, obviously, but that’s not really anything new. Physically, however … well, that’s not really new, either, but I have had a few incidents as of late that have me hurting a bit more than usual.
Firstly, at last week’s softball game, I was hustling out a
Secondly, the Cinco de Mayo Booze Cruize was held on, oddly enough, May 5th. The CdMBC is a short bicycle outing during which riders travel to a number of bars in the downtown area, enjoying the day and raising money for a good cause. (Bike O’ The Day: a couch set upon two frames, welded together side-by-side, carrying the owner and his dog. Brilliant.) The person with whom I was riding got a flat tire, and we were forced to walk … WALK! … for quite a distance. Those are muscles that, quite honestly, do not get a lot of use, and they are reminding me in an excruciating fashion of the meaning of the word “atrophy.”
Thirdly, I have (had?) a splinter of unknown origin in my thumb. I’m not sure if it’s still there, as I took a needle and gouged out all of the flesh around it, so that now there’s a Grand Canyonesque gash there, and I’m not sure if it hurts because of the splinter or because of the damage done by my autosurgical urges. Stupid splinter.
Lastly, I went to a friend’s house for jambalaya on the lawn the other day, which was extremely lovely, save for the fact that she has a tree with a large branch that’s exactly ½” lower than the top of my head, into which I ran multiple times, drawing blood from my skull at least twice. I’m fairly certain that she rented that house for that exact reason, though I have no way of proving it. But I know. Oh, I know.
Softball, walking, splinters, jambalaya feeds … life truly is fraught with danger. Maybe all those people who tell me that I need to wear a helmet everywhere have a point.