in which i complain, and also mention my vagina

originally posted May 9, 2008


Hello. What are you doing? I am sitting very still. Today, during a rather raucous display of ambulatory dexterity in which I walked from living room to bedroom, I discovered that I could no longer walk in the manner to which I am accustomed. One moment I was striding confidently along on my way to berate someone about something, one foot in front of the other, legs firmly attached to what seemed to be a fully functioning torso, and the next moment I was attempting to remain upright by clinging to a wall. In between these two moments I said something like Hey, my back really hurts. And hurt it did. It hurt so much that I acknowledged that the Brain Scientist was probably right when he pointed out that a trip to the doctor was in order. So, off to the doctor we went, where it was discovered that my pelvis, which was recently distorted thanks to the small person who came out of – have I mentioned this? – my VAGINA, has not returned to its usual perky, properly aligned self. Instead, it suffers from a fancy sounding ailment and is all lopsided and dysfunctional and requires physical therapy two times a week. It also requires narcotics and anti-inflammatory medications and steroids, none of which I can take because I am breastfeeding the small person who came out of my, well, you know. This all means that I can only take teeny mincing steps at a ridiculously slow rate, and only when absolutely necessary, and even this is no guarantee that I will not suddenly yelp and collapse on the floor in a writhing heap of pain and ill-fitting clothing. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.*

*Spell check tells me that fuckity is not a word, and suggests that I instead try luckily, bucket, or fructify. Fructify, spell check? Fructify?