So, um, while I was busy huddling up and packing, I was also managing to stick my foot in my mouth over and over with various key people. It would’ve been a thing of beauty if, say, I was in some sort of contest to see how angry and annoyed I could make every person that came into contact with me without actually evoking a ballpoint pen to the eyeball from any of them.
As it was, no one stuck anything in either of my eyes, but I developed a persistent ocular leak, nonetheless. I pondered the options for living a solitary life in the wilderness. The pros and cons would take some time to weigh, but in the meantime, I didn’t want to miss my upcoming getaway. Plenty of time to decide to withdraw from society after I go piss off some other people in a different state!
And there was just ONE THING I needed to take care of before I was cleared for take-off.
Off I went to see my doctor today. [Wait. No. Not MY doctor. MY doctor is away. On account of she is mostly imaginary, only showing up in the office on alternate Wednesdays when the moon is full. But what that means is that the doctor I ACTUALLY see there is much more MY doctor than the other one, but I refuse to switch to him to officially be MY doctor, because then he would undoubtedly become imaginary as well. Also, he is both 1) younger than me and 2) male, which means he cannot be my doctor because he is not allowed to give me a pelvic exam, ever.] Anyway. Was I talking about something?
Off to the doctor I went. The good news is that I didn’t make him angry or somehow insult him–things that I have become prone to when dealing with my fellow humans–and he didn’t once tell me that I was failing to meet his expectations. So that was a lovely break.
The bad news is that I had to explain that I recently sustained an injury… somehow. It wasn’t logical; it doesn’t even make a good story. Because I don’t know when or where it happened. All I know is that I’ve had some pain, on and off, for a while. And now the pain has gotten worse, so I wanted to get checked.
Hey, that’s good irony: The injury? Is to my foot. And as my foot has been spending a lot of time IN MY MOUTH, I had a small giggle. Hey! I keep putting my foot in my mouth, and my foot actually HURTS! That’s… so… karmic! Or something!
Irony? Try “CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?”: Guess what the not-my-doctor suspects. Go on, GUESS! Oh, I was grooving along fine on all the nifty-sounding words as he scribbled on my chart. I mean, I was still chanting “metatarsal metatarsal metatarsal” in my head when he handed me the x-ray slip.
Because he thinks I have a stress fracture.
Get that? He thinks I have a STRESS fracture. Ahahahahahahahahaaaa!
So, um, hi! My name is Mir, and I am living proof that if you keep sticking your foot in your mouth, eventually it’ll break.
Be careful out there.