Not much....what's new with you?

Hello internetz! It's Kerry!

When you haven't posted in nearly six months, there are so many updates that you could write about...where do I even begin?

Well, we've reached threat level brown in our apartment (that's what I call it when we're down to the last roll of toilet paper. Go. to. the. store. Seth). Tactical responses to this critical situation occupy the majority of my thoughts (e.g. If I had to use a washcloth, could I ever use that washcloth to clean myself again? or would it just become a guest towel?).

Anyways...now that we have that out of the way...

Once upon a time, I was saving several dozen children from a burning orphanage...and for whatever reason, they built this house on a well traveled set of railroad tracks...oh, and the children were blind...and the house was on fire...and there was a train bearing down...and the train conductor was asleep.

That's what I tell people when they ask how I hurt my knee.

Except, maybe there's a touch of hyperbole in that.

Nobody really wants to hear that I hurt my knee playing flag football. It was maybe the most unheroic injury that anyone has ever witnessed.

So readers, for the past few months I've gone from crutches, to therapy, and next will be surgery, more crutches, and more therapy.

At least I can say that I saved all those kids.

My physical torturer (did I say physical torturer? I meant physical "therapist") is Lindsay. Going to physical therapy is how I know I would never fit in with the S&M crowd. Paying for pain? Pass.

Lindsay: "Does it hurt when I do that? How about that? This? Oh, it hurts when I do this? Then we're going to hold that pose for 25 minutes."

If I was entrusted with keeping any national secrets, Lindsay would have found out who was behind the Kennedy assassination three sessions ago.

I imagine that somewhere out there, Lindsay is updating her facebook status...

"I made Kerry cry today. lol"

And all of her little evil PT friends are "liking" it.

I think that my time with her will condition me to develop a premature bias against anyone named 'Lindsay.'

Kerry the Interviewer: "So you'd like to work here Lindsay? Tell me about yourself"

Unsuspecting Interviewee Lindsay: "Well..."

Kerry the Interviewer: "I've heard enough. Get the hell out of my office."

That's not entirely fair to PT Lindsay. She's perfectly nice and does a great job. But that doesn't mean that I don't want to slap her.

Ah well.

There's lots more happening here. Stay tuned.