Picture me, sweat dripping down my face (does it count that it had only been 2 minutes?), running faster than a speeding bullet (if that bullet were in slo-mo), craning my neck in an awkwardly extreme-upward-right position to watch the news (okay, it was a Beyonce music video) on the flatscreen, my arms pumping to the rhythm and BAM!...slamming my pinky finger right into the treadmill handle bars.
Like any outstanding athlete, I pick myself up and get right back on the horse, going steady for another 25 mins or so and BAM! the handlebars jump out and attack my pinky finger again. I power through the end of my run and then hop off, look down...and realize my pinky finger is now severly dislocated from where God intended it to be. At least I'm hoping it's dislocated; my roommate is convinced it may be broken.
Some of us were meant to be cheerleaders........
Please send all thoughts, prayers and care packages to Anne's Pinky Finger, Apt. 20, Home of the Severly Uncoordinated :(
1 comment:
Awwww, Anners!! Sending mommy kisses your way, from Sac. Put some ice on that little pinky of yours and tell Goog that you are NO longer able to use the right side of your keyboard b/c of work-related injuries... they should understand.
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