Heh. Did anyone see this yesterday? I accidentally posted it half-written.
So, I complain about things that annoy Lloyd. Mostly piddiliy little things that make him groan and say, “Go see a doctor”. I don’t though, because I know the doctor will just say, “Yep, you’re getting older” and then write ‘super-hypochondriac’ in my file.
Strike one: A couple of months ago my left wrist started bothering me. It was achy and would pop/crunch and it has been difficult to pick things up because it is now as weak as the rest of me. I wore a wrist thingie for a while and whined every now and then to Lloyd about it.
Strike two: A couple of weeks ago I was getting the potatoes into the ovens at church, and in addition to using the ovens in the church kitchen, I used one of the school ovens. It is an old behemoth with two oven spaces, eight burners that had ridiculously high pilot lights, and a hot OUTER DOOR. It was nutty. I grabbed the oven handle, opened the door, and the front of the door touched the back of my hand. “What is that?” I wondered. “Oh. That’s PAIN.” I ran it under cool water for a long, long time, just like the fire safety song from yore said.
Strike three: I slipped down some stairs on Sunday and smacked my wrist trying to catch myself. The bone. It it slightly hurty. (Just a little bruise.)
That’s all, right? I can’t break this thing or it will never forgive me.