I suffered an “acute injury” to my knee by playing soccer this weekend, which meant that I did not have the physical ability required to select and purchase a Conestoga wagon and was instead RICE-ing like crazy while simultaneously moaning in pain for 48 hours straight. My doctor’s appointment this morning confirmed that my knee is in fact fucked. An MRI has been ordered to determine the level of fuckedness. They gave me crutches. I hate crutches.
To make myself feel better I have been surfing the information superhighway to watch videos of baby bunnies and read the local news to remind me that things could be worse: I could be a homeless kitten with one less Dodge Caravan than I had last week.
Oh, I also discovered the gmail app’s drawing capabilities, which has revolutionized my email correspondence. My creativity has skyrocketed. Behold! An illustration to the sad news story regarding the theft perpetrated against East Atlanta’s junkyard cats:
My only complaint is that I need a bigger canvas on which to draw. In the above example, I couldn’t perfectly execute my thought bubble.
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