Here we are again, airing our insecurities to the world as part of IWSG for March. How are we?
“We” here, meaning “me,” are not doing so hot. “We” managed to be stupid enough to strain “our” right calf muscle, badly, by doing something stupid, and that something was what “we” call “running.” Which means that “we” are currently hobbling around the house with an ice pack, cursing our bad shape and fighting the urge to trip those who can mosey on by “us” so easily.
So what insecurities are “we” harboring?
Well, one is the fact that while I’m shuffling around like someone who’s disabled, I don’t have the fun placard to display on my car which would enable me to walk a little bit less or to have people stop asking me dumb questions about my weird gait. I was glad when the doctor told me that I didn’t need crutches, but now I wished I had some so I would quit getting weird looks. Then people would just feel sorry for me and run to open the door. The walk from the doctor’s office to my car took me almost twenty minutes, and no one would even hold the elevator for me.
Seriously, though, I’m not looking for sympathy, unless it’s in the form of cash or Oreos. It’s just going to make work harder this week, as I sit around hoping that students will come to me instead of me walking around with them. How am I going to be able to intimidate them if I’m sitting down? And walking to the cafeteria at lunch is going to be horrible.
I’m supposed to be better within a week or so, so I should probably quit my whining. It’s just temporary. I just hate not functioning like normal. I get angry at the world when I’m sick, because I feel like it’s not fair. Unfortunately, the only person I can be angry at for my calf is me. But I comfort myself with the fact that I now have good reason to NEVER try to run again. Clearly, it doesn’t work for me. At least now I can say, “Oh no, I can’t run, I injured myself and it’s not for me.” I hope that excuse holds up for at least the next four years.