I ain’t broke
Or so they sang.
No, I ain’t broke. I’m just badly bent.
One curious reader at one point requested a recounting of the trip to Georgia. I’d offer it, but, I’m not sure it was all that exciting. The only real story was the LOST and FOUND that was required upon my leaving.
LOST: One belt, half of one cell phone clip, the ability to eat steak and eggs at 3:30 in the morning, 25% of the strength in my right hand
FOUND: One sport jacket, half of one cell phone clip, the ability to enjoy an outdoor beer, the realization that sping has arrived and my yard really needs some work.
Dr. Internet tells me my hand problem is likely the result of a pulled forearm muscle or–at the worst–minor carpal tunnel syndrome. Dr. Paranoia tells me I have a neurological problem. Dr. Mortality tells me I’ll be dead in a month.