Here we are friends, day six of the hostage situation AKA the boot. I know that things could be worse and really, I am not complaining. Okay, I am complaining, but not with a whiny voice. The voice is calm and quiet sprinkled with a touch of annoyance.
The issue isn’t the ankle pain. No, it is the bulky awkwardness of my new appendage. As I ran errands this weekend, people probably were cautiously observing me as I spewed sentence enhancers trying to get my foot out of the car. My family is overjoyed as I navigate our home. Furniture seems to be the in the same place it always has been yet, in my way. Sentence enhancers flow as I keep kicking chairs while simply walking to the kitchen.
In the midst of walking around like the female version of Frankenstein, I got the notification of my approval for TSA Precheck. Apparently, the lady with “resting bitch face” rushed the process. Maybe she was impressed with my pleasant disposition and wants to be more like me or perhaps she hopes I never grace their office again. Either way, I am free from walking on the germ invested airport carpet along with getting groped.
The clock is ticking until I am rid of my “friend”. In the meantime, if you see me in public, and I am bitching out loud, simply ignore me. My boot and I have some issues to work out and my appendage is less than compliant.
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