Prepare yourselves. I'm venting today.
I am so furious that if blood really could boil it would be spewing from the top of my head!
Yesterday and today BOTH I have inadvertently knocked my wrist against an immovable object. Result? Hideously ugly purple bruises on the left and the right.
My clumsiness has never been pretty... although there were times when I was younger I chose to think of it as part of my charm. However, those days are long gone. These under-the-skin fuscia marks just SCREAM: OLD! INEPT! SICKLY! and my personal favorite, STOOPID!
I hate, hate, hate them.
No matter how hard I try to Think First before I do anything physical I can't seem to avoid whacking myself way too often.
The only thing that ever made them better was - when Tom would see them - he would kiss them. Not much chance of that happening again in THIS lifetime, damn it.
So here I sit pathetically bawling for a dead husband to kiss my boo boos.
That ain't right.
The saving grace is that ten days from now they will have disappeared and I can move on. Wish that I believed ten days hence is all I need to stop missing Tom....
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:( I'm sorry. I (of course) bump into things all the time. Todd will say "what's that GIGANTIC bruise on your leg" I'll say, "I don't know I'm sure I bumped into something". He can't understand how I don't know what it's from. I do it so often though I lose track and keep moving on. Just like you. Keep moving on auntie. You're doing great.
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