A couple of weeks ago, I was playing tennis and tore my calf muscle. It made me really mad - Mad because I'm in pain. Mad because I don't get to do the active things that I like to do for at least two solid weeks (doctor's orders). Really mad because this injury makes me feel old. Really really mad because it was likely a preventable injury - if only I had stretched and warmed up like old ladies should...
A couple of days after the injury, before I was even off of my crutch (I only used one, because crutches plural, are hard, yo.) Mike had to leave for some
I always miss my Michael when he goes away, but I'm extra sad this time because I have been doing nothing but going to work and coming directly home to lay about with my old-lady leg propped up. I'm lonely. I'm grumpy. I need to pull it together. Especially since I'm walking around freely now, even (cautiously) up and down steps, and Mike will be home next weekend.
|Sad picture of Mike's hats that I took while laying in bed. Probably eating Cheetos or pickle sammiches.|
Ahhh... I'm looking forward to real life again.
|Know who doesn't mind pity-parties? Naps and snacks?? Sign her up!|