Not to offend anyone…but I may be the next messiah. Not Jesus or anything like that…but if your vision of God is some fat guy sitting on the couch watching Murder, She Wrote whilst eating Cheetos and wiping the orange Cheeto dust off of his sticky fingers directly onto the chest of his shirt…I could be his kid. Definitely.
The sad thing is that even he probably wouldn’t claim me.
And look, I don’t blame him. I’m a hot, sloppy mess, and I would distance myself from…myself…if that were possible according to the laws of physics. But some rule about atomic physics probably covers why that isn’t possible, so I have to settle for apologizing for my behavior and personality whenever the moment presents itself. It’s my cross to bear so I try not to ask questions.
But I digress–which is another of my many faults.
I hurt my knee on the 8th. No, I wasn’t attempting feats of athleticism. No, I didn’t fall down. No, I didn’t run into a burning building to save a kitty-cat. I don’t run or do anything athletic. And if I fell, you would’ve felt it. Yeah. Even you readers in Myanmar.
Side note: how did I get readers in Burma?
Anyhoozles, wuh-huh-happen was, ya’ see, when I sit, I tend to fold a leg underneath myself and sit like a kindergartner that hasn’t learned social norms yet. Lots of people do it. It’s a thing. But I happened to sit down on the 8th, and as I folded my leg under myself, and when I went to sit down, I misjudged where my bo-heiny was in relation to the chair. I went to overcorrect my stance, and the folded under knee slammed down onto the hard wooden frame of the couch, taking my full (substantial) weight. Outwardly, I pretended everything was fine…but inwardly, notsamuch. Internally, I was planning my own funeral.
However…I thought that when I plowed my knee into the hard frame and felt a pop, I had just caused momentary pain.
The next day…when I tried to put weight on my leg, it didn’t feel…right. It didn’t hurt–but it felt like when you get a Charlie horse and have to stomp that shit out…except this was not going to be something solved by “stomping it out”. And when I walked, I had to limp, looking like a fat Paul Sheldon that Annie Wilkes just come after with a sledgehammer. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, watch Misery for fuck’s sake.
Anyhoozles…JoJo (the missus) found this kind of comical at first. And, not to lie, I did, too. I mean, I knew it wasn’t broken. There was no bruising, no swelling, my knee/leg wasn’t hot…it was just a minor injury. The fact that I’m fat didn’t help the recovery, either. So, JoJo and I just made jokes, and she slowed her walking when we went places so that I could keep up. It was all just one big fat joke.
Until I made jokes about having a DVT.
I jokingly told JoJo that I didn’t really hurt my knee like I thought, but probably had a DVT since I’m a big bastard. She laughed at first…but over the next few days, I saw her mood about my couch injury change. She went from “it’s so funny that you hurt your knee sitting down” to “Oh, my God, you’re probably going to die.” This was about 6 days into the injury (during which time I used my bed to sit on to write since it was easier to get up from the bed as opposed to my comfy chair). Suddenly, out of the blue, JoJo said, “Look, we don’t tell each other how to live our lives…but if you’re not better soon, you should go to the doctor.”
After threatening JoJo’s life, I calmed down and suggested that I gnaw my own leg off like a wolf caught in a bear trap.
She wasn’t amused.
All of it didn’t matter, though, because the next day, my knee was almost 50% better. Which was yesterday. Today…I can almost walk without any limp whatsoever. I mean, I’m still working on my bed because the “injury” taught me that typing in bed is comfortable as eff. How I never tried it before, I’ll never know.
Ultimately, this all proves that I can perform miracles. When faced with the prospect of going to the doctor, my body says “the fuck we will” and fixes whatever is going on. If that’s not God-like powers, I don’t know what is.
I don’t know how to end this. That’s a power I don’t have.
P.S. I wrote this post on the 16th–just in case you realize the timeline seems “off”.
Until next time…