Not a writing post today. Not a politics post, either, nor a space post, nor any other kind of useful thing. Sorry, but I just don’t have it in me.
I don’t have it in me because…well…umm…pain really ain’t all that conducive to writing. Not emotional pain — that’s great(ish) for writing — but pure, annoying physical pain.
I managed to break a couple of toes the other day, and it sucks. I’d love to come up with some great story about wrestling a bear, or jumping off a bridge to save a drowning kangaroo, or even just tripping down a flight of stairs, but the simple fact of the matter is…well…I’m an idiot.
I did it at hockey. Okay, that sounds good, that’s a good start. Err, well, the problem, you see, is…well…I wasn’t actually playing hockey. That would’ve been just far too easy….and far less embarrassing. Hell, I’ve broken a fairly significant number of things playing hockey, and pretty much all of those stories are entertaining as hell. There was the time my hand got stepped on by a skate…
But, nosiree, not this time. There’s no hiding from the shame this time.
Nope, this time I was out on the ice early, just screwing around with a bunch of the high school kids after their practice.
I wasn’t wearing gear. More importantly, I wasn’t wearing skates.
“Hey, the puck’s coming,” I thought, “I know, I’ll block it with my foot! Wait, hang on, maybe I should rethink this…OOOOOWWWWW*!!!!”
Like I said: idiot.
*Err, there just might have been some four-letter words in there as well, but I’ll leave that to your imagination.
One of the guys I play with is a doctor. When he got done laughing at me (definitely not with me), he tossed me a roll of tape and a couple of Advil. “Have fun,” was the extent of his medical advice.
I got a text this morning from another of the guys about playing in a tournament. Apparently my nickname has now become “Toes.”
I hate the entire universe right now.
Finding My Way Out 