It’s hard out there for a gimp; when she tryin’ to get this money for the rent.

Life continues to crutch by at a pace normally reserved for animals that carry their homes on their backs. I have now graduated to the one-crutch peg-legging stage of ACL recovery, which is two parts humiliating and one part pirate. I’ve only been at this level for two days and already 8 people have told me that I need an eye-patch or a parrot. I feel that every moment that goes by, I fall a little bit behind RG3′s recovery trajectory. At this rate, I seriously doubt that I’ll be able to run a 4-second 40-yard dash by spring training. In short, all my dreams are ruined.

I switched parking decks and now park in a deck that has a bunch of covered skyways to get me to work, so I no longer have to bear the downtown elements. This has significantly decreased my interaction with homeless people and crazies in general, which I sort of miss. I got of lot of public pity, empathy, and human interaction on my daily crutch of death uphill across city streets to get to my office from my old deck. At the new deck, not so much.

Mostly I miss the tall Indian man who ran the dry cleaners in the lobby of my old deck. Since I got crippled, every morning he would see me come out of the elevator and would run out, abandoning his shop, and escort me all the way to work. For a few of these days, the streetlights weren’t functioning and there were blinking red and yellow lights that I had to deal with, so this man literally got out in the middle of the street with both arms out-stretched and stopped traffic– all while chattering to me incessantly in broken English. I am now officially a lady whose presence stops traffic. This is clearly the highlight of my life, even though I didn’t anticipate that this designation would come with a temporary disability.

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