goo goo gaa gaa
(This one is my favourite bruise. The strange ladder-esque scab running up my leg is my favourite zipper imprint injury. The surprise underneath my shoulder bandaids is my favourite road rash scrape. Every time I get dressed I find new and disgusting cuts, bruises, and popped blood vessels.
Yesterday I got into a bike accident.
Today I worked a twelve hour shift.
Today I realized that my bike wheel is bent from yesterday!
Today a piece of dirt flew into my eye and I had to pull my bike over to the side of the road in blindness. I took into consideration the above and just about started crying. Once more, eye dirt almost induced tears.
My feet hurt so much by the time I got home and it made me feel old. I thought of the lunch lady who used to terrorize the primary students at my old elementary school, or more specifically, her ugly tan coloured orthotics. She wore violet tinted glasses, was completely malicious, and we all lived in constant fear of her wrath. One day at lunch hour there was a wind storm, and in a particularly strong gust of air, a large branch fell off a tree and struck this lunch lady. She managed to avoid any real injuries, and so, pretending to nod and mumble about how horrible the whole experience could have been, we collectively rejoiced in our luck. We assumed that someone had prayed because the branch fell down from above --and that could only mean one of two things: