I'm bubble boy!

someone should just put me in a bubble, really. it's apparent to me that the world is trying to make me hurt.

so the mexican polka pains eventually disappeared, a few ben gay patches later. however, I then made the decision to play softball with some old coworkers.

first, I was asleep 5 minutes before the game started, in the middle of a glorius nap. then I got a phone call saying I was late (true, I planned on being there early), so I left, half asleep. got to the game and was placed in center field 15 minutes after waking in a daze... I can't catch to save myself even if I'm *awake*. But I was able to throw to shortstop a number of times, to my surprise.

The kicker was when I was up to bat. keep in mind, I haven't done this in over a year. I HIT THE BALL ON THE FIRST TRY. that was good. then I started to run. I ran. really fast. I ran so fast, in fact, that I felt myself starting to topple forward. I hit the base and tripped over it, causing myself to sprawl out over the dirt and gravel. yeah. you're not supposed to slide at first. they asked me if I was okay, and my reply was, "am I safe?" I, indeed, was safe. my next teammate, however, managed to hit the ball right to second, so I wasn't safe for long.

my knee hurt -- I had ripped my jeans -- but it didn't seem too bad. the next day, however, I thought I might die. I actually wondered if it was getting infected, because it also looked kind of gross. and it hurt. a lot. it was red and hot and oozey. but never, fear, fellow reader -- today it appears that I will be fine, and that my leg won't be amputated after all.

I may, however, have to forgo all future physical activity. and it's a good thing my middle name isn't grace, or my life would be *really* messed up.