My doctor banned me from blogging. It went something like this.
*****
Me: My wrist hurts. Like shooting pain down my hands and I can't hold my tooth brush! This is so bad. I get coffee breath.
Doctor: You have tendinitis. You're pissing a nerve off.
Me: No, it's pissing me off.
Doctor: No more blogging for two months.
Me: WHAT?! What kind of medical degree do you have anyway? I don't believe this googly-moogly stuff.
Doctor: Repetitive motion is making it worse.
Me: You don't understand. I have FIVE readers, THREE of which are rabid. You basically just prescribed my eventual assassination.
Doctor: You have fans?
Me: I didn't say fans. Wait. did I? ok, sure. I have fans. Five of them. I am Honest to Christina afterall, and my mom says I've got gumption. Or maybe she said something about exasperation. I wasn't paying attention.
Doctor: Wait, you're Honest to Christina?! Never mind. You need to keep blogging. How 'bout you just try more cowbell?
Me: Are you one of the rabid ones?
*****
At least that's how I remember it going. So my wrist is wrapped and being iced as we speak, and I have clear doctors orders to blog even though it hurts.
Mr. M just lectured me about blogging with an injury {caused by said blogging, which he already thinks is hilarious} and how if I get permanently crippled from blogging, OF ALL THINGS, he is not going to wipe for me.
I said there's got to be some sort of invention out there for that.
And what do you know, there is. I'm ordering my freedom wand as we speak. But only because I can't find an Augbesian {because who doesn't want to wipe their butt in the fashion of a centaur?}
6 snarks:
I don't remember if I told you this or not, but I have been diagnosed with Tendonitis in my hand. FROM PLAYING ANGRY BIRDS. You and I both win at life.
so, so, so very sad. And no I will not assisinate you. What with me being in my cave a lot I really appreciate the blog nuggets of joy that you provide. I will wait patiently until you get a clean bill of health (although I may have a small affair with catherine neuman). -Kristina
duuuude. I'm not stopping. You have to know me better than that.
OMG STEVIE. soul sisters. I swear.
I promise not to encourage Ashley to help me harass you to blog while you are healing.
Learn to wipe with your left hand.
i want to see the freedom wand! or you can pretend that you have a bidet (but use a squirt bottle instead) and then take a clue from basil and scoot across the living room floor, this might be good for your abs too!
i blame this on housework. clearly mr m is not doing his share and you are over exerted. sue his ass!
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