Sore

I don't think there is a place left on my body that is not sore. If there is, I have no doubt it will soon get hurt and join it's brethren to make me even more miserable.

My right foot is sore because Sugarbowl and I were shopping the other day and she dropped this big hard purse thing on it. Of course it fell pointy side down and bruised my foot. I was holding a wallet and whacked her with it when it happened. She had the audacity to ask me why I hit her. Maybe because I was limping even more through the store than usual and wanted her to feel my pain. Misery does love company.

My arms and guts are sore from that damn exercise program. I have to do it all over again today and am hoping we are not doing any more arm and gut exercises today because I will be even more of a wimp than I already am and I do not want to let on that I am that big of a wimp when everyone else acts like it is the easiest thing they have done all week.

My head is still sore from when I nearly decapitated myself on a low branch while mowing. I have a nice big crusty lump from it that I have to check every few minutes to see if it still hurts. It does.

My heart is sore because I am reading Remembering Slavery right now. It is a selection of readings from the Slave Narratives that I like to read about once a year. It really puts life into perspective for me and if you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend you do so ASAP. It makes me feel like all the crap I am going through is small potatoes compared to what those people went through, and they have a much better attitude about it than I do.

My ears are sore because Jabber sat next to me yesterday and barked orders into my ear about what I needed to be doing in my game, even though he has never played it, he still knows more than me about it.

My eyeballs are sore from playing that damn game so much. I finally got past level 7 but can't get past 8 now. I have been going at it like it is my full time job, hoarding the computer and bitching and moaning about how ridiculously hard level 8 is.

My hands are sore from all the splinters I keep getting from the raspberry bushes. I can get most of them out but some are so stubborn and I keep forgetting about them until something touches the place they are permanently lodged and I curse those delicious fruit bearing brambles that I must rape and plunder.

My butt cheeks are sore from Sugarbowl punching me in the arse whenever I say something rude. I told her she had a fat zitty ass the other day and she got mad and punched me in the butt. She can really nail the muscle there and has great upper body strength. She said she was going to take a nap the next day and I thought she was really going to take a nap. I wanted to tell her something so I go to her door to open it and it is locked. Being the slow thing that I am, I didn't register the fact that she had a buzz saw going in her room while having a locked door. I asked what she was doing and she yelled out, very cranky-like, "I'm BUSY!" The pieces of the puzzle fell into place and I was scandalized that she was doing that while I sat out here just steps away. She was mad that I interrupted her. I told her that if she wasn't so busy pawing at her crotch all the time, we wouldn't have this problem. She punched me in the butt cheek exactly where she had punched me the day before. I am not one to let sleeping dogs lie and like to make references to her always pawing at her crotch, which she always rewards with a solid punch to the ass. My butt is so sore it hurts to sit. You would think I would learn, but it is too much fun to get her all worked up.