Oh, sweet shrieking Jesus. I'm clumsy (clumsier than usual, even) because my stupid ankle hurts, so I keep wobbling and lurching and stumbling, and as a result I keep hurting my ankle even more. Of course, this makes me still clumsier, which results in further wobbling, lurching, and stumbling. It is a vicious cycle of gimpitude
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Comments 13
Protective. Custody.
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Helper. Monkey.
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B. Dude, I have my own tag! I rule!
C. I have fashioned under my desk a semi-stable ottoman made of a box of copier paper and a laptop case so's I can keep the gimpy knee elevated.
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I just had a total CraftGeek moment.
B. Of course you do. You are fantabulous.
C. I have an empty copier paper box under my desk, but I kept kicking the computer, so now I have a chair next to my desk. You have no idea what a lovely picture I present to people who walk into my office. *shudder*
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You aren't wearing a skirt, are you? That would be sexé.
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No, I'm not wearing a skirt. *shriek* That would indeed be sexé. I can just see it. White V-neck sweater, ankle-length black skirt, running shoes, ACE bandage. Left let propped up on chair. Right foot on floor. Horrified guests. Yeah.
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Yes, as my honorary big brother, you may call me Clumsalina. That works out nicely, really. For one thing, it's accurate, and for another, it goes well with dawnshine's nickname, Puffulina.
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;p
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