I had to spend a few hours in the office today so I hitched a ride and left my couch for what felt like the first time in months. Once there I mostly just hid in my office so as to avoid having to explain over and over and over again that, yes I am in fact totally banged up as the result of a kick ball game. This was reasonably effective but some people just won’t be deterred by a mostly closed door. Any hint of drama, like crutches perched against a file cabinet, and they appear like paparazzi. I began toying with the idea of making up a new story for each new person but I didn’t have the heart or the energy. A friend of mine recommended putting together a PowerPoint presentation and posting it on my door.
As I was leaving I got caught in the hallway by a co-worker. Its not comfortable to be propped up on crutches, which makes me wonder why in all of human history we haven’t invented a better tool for leg injuries. I mean absolutely no medical advancements in this regard since like the dawn of time, well at least since Tiny Tim. Anyway, I am standing there – and by standing I mean leaning heavily on my underarms - with a somewhat over exaggerated grimace on my face hoping to convey my intense need to get going, when Melissa came by. She’s one of my most favorite co-workers. And if you know me, you know that is saying a lot. Anyway, I see Melissa, I think salvation, I am right. She chases off anonymous co-worker, who was on Chapter One of a story about the time his son broke his arm on the monkey bars. What that has to do with me (a stranger) smashing an ankle playing kick ball I will (thank you Melissa) never know.
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