July was really not a very good month for me and apparently the month itself holds some unfathomable animosity towards me. Yesterday evening was the grand finale. Once I had gotten off of work, Paul and I went for a walk. When we were heading back to the apartment, about 200 feet away from the front door, I was ambushed. The month of July attacked with unprecedented ferocity …. July sprained my ankle. Having never had a sprained ankle in my life, I’m very bitter about this. When I went down from the attack, I heard a snap and the thought that it might be broken briefly occurred to me, I also thought I might be sick in the middle of the parking lot.
But luckily, Paul was there though and he kept me from being run over, and gently escorted me home, and took care of me. He’s some sort of superman.
I can’t really walk properly. I mostly just hobble from place to place at the moment, and because of this I’m missing work this evening. I’m not too happy about that either. I had planned on another 8 hour day today, but those plans were squashed flat. I was hoping for just 4 hours, and now that’s not going to happen either.
I think I have just officially acquired a potentially lethal case of cabin fever.
I’ll get you back next year, July, you just wait and see.