As I write this I’m realizing that the title isn’t as applicable as I’d thought it would be. It turns out that I can still type! You see, yesterday I was test-riding bicycles at REI. I haven’t been on a bike in years, but it turns out, it’s kind of like riding a…oh, yeah. Right.
So, I’m cruising around the side streets of Berkeley, wearing my stylish yellow reflective vest, feeling the breeze on my face. Enjoying life. Thinking to myself ‘why the heck haven’t I done this in so long?’ All together I try out three bikes. The first one is fine. I like the second one best. I do not like the third one. I didn’t like it to begin with. Even before I fell off the damn thing. Then, there’s no way it can redeem itself in my eyes. We are over. Nothing to do but take it back to the store.
I twist my ankle. I reach out to brace myself as I fall, thinking all the while, ‘this is a bad idea. I shouldn’t be doing this. Too late. Ow.’
More than 24 hours later, still ow. But without the capital. I email my doc and she signs me up for some x-rays. The readings get back to me tomorrow. I doubt there’s any broken bones (though there’s a part of me that secretly wants there to be, so my whining will be justified).
However, I think to myself, ‘this is the perfect excuse. No way I can write now. My wrist is in pain. I shouldn’t beat myself up over my little writing break. Fate intervened. Can’t blame myself.’
It would be more believable if I’d been typing my fingers bloody for the past few days instead of sitting around on my ass catching up on old Tivo recordings. I don’t even have the old standby of my job, since school let out last Friday.
I have the time. Maybe even have the energy. And, as of the beginning of the post, it’s clear that I still have pain-free typing in my toolkit as well. Damn. Nothing like reality to mess with a good excuse.
UPDATE: No fractures. Ergo, I am a whiner.