My Left Foot

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Oh, brother! Last night was a bummer.

I needed to meet with someone and that took until 9:30. It was a good meeting, but I felt a bit wasted. Then I tried to watch an episode of some inane American TV series figuring that, as usual, that would induce an amplified stuporific state that would lead rapidly to blissful unconsciousness. It wasn’t working. I suspect that the programme may have actually, unlikely as it may seem, contained a bit of wit – which is, for me, not an anaesthetic.

When I got up to go for a shower before beddie-bye, I put my left foot down on the floor and nearly leapt out of my skin when it didn’t work right. It hurt like blazes! I swear, I could see little flashes of purple lightning just under the skin.

Hey, what’s this all about? It’s not like I’d been pole vaulting city busses or something. I was just reclining on the bed. It’s the same kind of feeling that you get when you go out to the parking lot and find that some clown has caved the door in on your brand new Beemer. The boogyman has paid you a very unwelcome visit. Waaaaaaa . . .

Just so we stay on the same page, here’s my left foot with a diagrammatically precise indication of exactly where it hurts:

Where my left foot hurts

I think I may have suffered some cosmic ray damage. Don’t laugh. It’s happened to me before. (I promise that soon, very soon, I am going to publicly disclose my theory concerning the link between cosmic rays and those inexplicable shooting pains that I’m sure you’ve experienced.)

Then I couldn’t sleep. I took 5mg of good ole’ Valium, which usually knocks me out quite nicely. Nothing! A half hour later, I took another one (two’s my absolute limit). I felt sleepy and thought, “Okay, the worst is over.”


New sheets. You know how new sheets feel kinda crinkly? Well these did. And the crinklyness made me feel cold. I pulled up the bedspread, and then it was too hot. So, it was cold, hot, cold, hot, way too cold, being fricasseed in smoking sesame oil . . . I’m sure that this has happened to you.

Finally, I presume, I fell asleep. When I awakened this morning I felt as if I’d been wrestling crocodiles naked in a swimming pool full of used motor oil. I smelled like it too.

Then a repairman showed up at seven to fix something. I was in the middle of flogging my mind furiously to see if I could get anything to ooze out onto the screen. I did nothing useful this morning except to assist the repairman to fix the satellite so that it stays on for more than four hours a day. I guess that’s something.

So, when I arrived limping at the office, I’d done nothing to fulfil my promise to myself that I would write daily.

You, therefore, must now suffer the indignity of viewing my left foot. Furthermore, I’m whining like a child whose mother won’t buy him a balloon.

Okay, I feel better now.

Just in case you wondered, here is what I see when I swing my chair 180°

The sweeping panorama of clutter as viewed from my office chair

As you can see, the clutter situation is only getting worse.

Happy trails.

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