Thursday, March 13

My tribute to the F word

Lets see how long it takes me to just plain spell it out.

Today, I think I may have dropped the F-Bomb at least 20 times. This is somewhat reminiscent of the movie I watched last night, The Matador, where in a particular scene one of the leads wives mutters the the Big-F a few dozen times in one lengthy sentence.

Last week sometime I fell on my knees from a standing position. I turned on some ice while walking the dogs and my feet went behind me, thanks to a wee tiny ice slope I wasn't aware of. My knees caught my fall. I'm pretty sure my F-bucket was to the brim when that happened. My right knee took most of the damage and it has hurt a hell of a lot ever sense.

This morning I managed to trip on the way up the stairs. Looking back it's pretty easy to trip when you have to move a curtain aside (which we use to keep top floor air on the top, bottom floor air on the bottom), jump to avoid kamikaze cats, and run to the door to stop your dog from barking. I made it half way when a similar scenario was forced upon me today - sadly no cats were involved which makes me feel kinda stupid but I was incredibly tired, still am. I hit my left knee really hard on the edge of the top stair which has a metal edge on it. I didn't immediately realize what happened until I noticed I was on my knees, in pain, and now my only good knee was my newest bad knee. F-Roll please. I cursed so hard the dogs shut up, the cats hid and the neighbors probably thought about moving to a less ghetto neighbourhood.

I rolled around on the ground and did a self check to occupy myself and keep my emotions at bay so I wouldn't end up crying like a little girl. Knee, Check, Pain, Check, Can I stand, Check. "FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFuck that hurts".

I let the dogs in, since I was right next to the door and all, and they ran inside to see what was the matter. Shila's really sympathetic toward pain. Actually she just likes it when you roll around on the floor which gives her incentive to look like a good, loving, lick happy dog. I called my sports injury person, yes climbing stairs is a sport, and they are gonna take a look at it later today. I can't wait to feel them prodding their fingers around behind my kneecaps.

Why me? I ask. I feel as though some sort of Knee Reaper is stalking me after I narrowly escaped knee death a week ago.

Thats enough of me being a cry baby. Hows everybody else?

* In honour of Jen, I'm using references. One of my nephews a long time ago decided "Fuck Bucket" was a sweet word to use. I think it had something to do with my sister or I exclaiming "Fuck It". Mind like a sponge right? He made a little song out of it and rhymed it with bucket.

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