Um….can I just share?
I’m pretty sure I have a bruised rib.
But only when I breathe and move and stuff. Or sleep. Or wear my bra.
But HOW? What did I do to warrant this affliction?
THIS. THIS is what really irritates me.
On Saturday my Mother and I went to Sam’s and during the frenzy of checking out (seriously, couldn’t they add a little “landing pad” on the other side of the register?) I reached across the cart and just sort of leaned into this:
I say “leaned into” because literally –that’s all I did. But the pain! You’d have thought I got a running start and impaled myself on the corner of the box.
I guess my point is:
I bruised my rib on a box of crackers.
Jacked my shiz up, y’all. Who DOES that?
Suffice it to say, I’m-a be low key for a whiles I think. Again. Living the high life over here. Kombucha wishes and kimchi dreams…
And that’s my story.
You kind of have to be here.
- What is the weirdest injury you’ve ever achieved? I’ll pass out “I’m Special” certificates.
- Favorite Ralph quote? (PS-Don’t tell me you don’t like/know the Simpson’s. No, really. Please don’t. I try really hard not to judge and that … that’s a toughie to overlook. Keep it quiet.)