Evidently, I did not completely ruin my life and I am not the spawn of Satan that I truly thought I was. Apparently, one can make mistakes without being reduced to that icky gunk that you find in the tray under your refrigerator, and when it comes to relationships - it is often better to make such mistakes before becoming exclusive with the other person. So at least I still have moderately good timing.
I saw my surgeon last week, who informed me that I am at least a month or two ahead of schedule as far as recovery goes, which I thought was excellent news. I can now begin unrestricted physical therapy. Despite the name, there are still all sorts of restrictions. For example, I cannot go skydiving, jump out of a moving vehicles, or go to the gym and lift weights. I suppose the last one goes without saying after the first two, but this one impacts my life far more than the first two, ever since I gave up my career as the sexy stunt double to Oprah Winfrey. I know, I know, it sounds like a cushy job, but it is not easy having to bob and weave through all the disgruntled fans that happened to not get in the audience that received the free car that day, and those cattle ranchers could get downright mean. In any event, I decided it just was not a role I could fulfill anymore.
Taking full advantage of my new found physical freedom, I took my little brother bowling this weekend. We both were able to refrain from falling over and sliding down the lane head first, which was good news for everyone there because I guarantee I would have bowled a perfect game that way, and I don't like to make everyone else feel bad with my obvious athletic prowess like that. It's like I told the coach of the team that day, "If I play for you, I am just going to embarrass all your other players and their performance will suffer." I chose yesterday to impart this sensitive and caring wisdom to my little bother. I think he understood. Then we pointed and stared at all the people that were different from us.
I saw my surgeon last week, who informed me that I am at least a month or two ahead of schedule as far as recovery goes, which I thought was excellent news. I can now begin unrestricted physical therapy. Despite the name, there are still all sorts of restrictions. For example, I cannot go skydiving, jump out of a moving vehicles, or go to the gym and lift weights. I suppose the last one goes without saying after the first two, but this one impacts my life far more than the first two, ever since I gave up my career as the sexy stunt double to Oprah Winfrey. I know, I know, it sounds like a cushy job, but it is not easy having to bob and weave through all the disgruntled fans that happened to not get in the audience that received the free car that day, and those cattle ranchers could get downright mean. In any event, I decided it just was not a role I could fulfill anymore.
Taking full advantage of my new found physical freedom, I took my little brother bowling this weekend. We both were able to refrain from falling over and sliding down the lane head first, which was good news for everyone there because I guarantee I would have bowled a perfect game that way, and I don't like to make everyone else feel bad with my obvious athletic prowess like that. It's like I told the coach of the team that day, "If I play for you, I am just going to embarrass all your other players and their performance will suffer." I chose yesterday to impart this sensitive and caring wisdom to my little bother. I think he understood. Then we pointed and stared at all the people that were different from us.
Hahahaha... you're funny. I especially enjoyed your physical comparison to an occasionally-chunky, middle-aged, African-American woman.
ReplyDeleteglad you are feeling better... =]
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