07/12/2007: "I'm either growing old or going crazy"

mood: confused

Exhibit A: my ankle is fucked. FUCKED. You know what I did to my ankle? Not a goddamned thing. And tonight I was just standing there minding my own business, doing some dishes, and it felt like someone shoved a white-hot fireplace poker into my ankle, wrapped it around my tendons, and gave 'er a twist. I crumpled like a damn house of cards. It has happened four times since then. I had the audacity to attempt to play DDR tonight and angered the ankle poker gods again. I have resigned myself to the recliner.

Exhibit B: Confining myself to the recliner leaves me no option other than farting around with the laptop and/or watching TV. Discovery Channel, you disappoint me with your Thursday night re-runs. My remote has led me to "So You Think You Can Dance." (I like to watch the bootie-shaking. Don't judge. YOU DON'T KNOW ME!) So anyway, Hillary Duff's hot ass (in a hot pink genie outfit no less) inexplicably sang a song in the middle of the show. And fuck if I didn't actually kind of like it.