Let me tell you about my day, starting with last week.
Last Friday I was at the gym, running on the treadmill. My knees hurt a little, but no more than usual; I've always had pain in my knees. So I'm running on the treadmill and all is well. I get off, and begin to walk to what I call the "birthing machine" more commonly known as the leg abductor or something, and I take about 3 steps and suddenly feel a stabbing pain in my right knee. I was literally gasping from the pain and almost fell over. After hopping to the wall on my other leg and trying a few uncomfortable stretches, I come to the conclusion that my knee is permanently busted and begin sending numerous texts that say things like "I need surgery" and "SOS!" No one came to S my S or my suffering body though, and after a while the stabbing pain became more like a cramping pain and I figured I could bike home, which I did. Yadda yadda yadda, I hobbled around for the rest of the day, then woke up Saturday with zero pain and a smile on my face.
The smile lasted for 3 days and 22 hours, approximately. Because Tuesday, I decided I was healed enough to try the gym again (I rested for the weekend even though I felt fine) but apparently I was wrong. My knee cramped up again and I was back to hobbling. (Cramped up doesn't seem like an accurate description...it feels more like there's something pinched behind my knee cap.)
So, this morning, I wake up and I'm still hobbling, and I decide to call in sick to work. Mostly I didn't think I was up to walking 10 minutes to the T on one leg, and Cathy just told me yesterday how good of a worker I am, so I figured it was fine, and it was. All day long (and I've been awake since my alarm went off at 7:45, I couldn't go back to sleep) I've been reading and watching The Real Housewives of NYC. And I've come to some conclusions.
1. You would think that spending the day literally planted in one spot on your sofa would be slow and boring, but it's quite the opposite. I can't understand where the day has gone, and how it is now 8:20pm.
2. The Real Housewives of NYC really ONLY got interesting in the 3rd season. Today I watched 1.5 episodes of season 1 and it was like watching paint dry. Or like watching dusty old broads drink cocktails and play tennis, which is what it really is.
3. Even when I have a legitimate excuse, I will always feel guilty for using a sick day. Some time in the future I can see myself laying in a hospital bed with an IV and a nasty appendectomy scar, and I'll be saying, "Oh God, do you think my boss is mad that I didn't come in today?"
Anyway, back to my reading. It's
this by the way - and excellent if I do say so myself.
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