I should write about robots. Or think about them. Or do some work that keeps me fed. Instead all my grey matter could do this morning on my bike ride to campus was write letters about my back. On September 15, 2012 I shredded some ligaments in my back in a surprising something or other. Since then I’ve had the constant companionship of The Pain and The Feelings.
I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you.
Actually, I’m not.
You didn’t hold up your end of the evolutionary bargain.
And now I’m mad at you.
Actually, that’s not my full range of motion. Nice try.
I’m not going to be happy about this until palms are flat on the floor and
I’m running 10ks five times a week.
I think we both know this isn’t your way of telling me to slow down.
Let’s just ignore them and have a glass of wine.
Dear Advice Givers,
It’s hard for me to hear your good intentions.
I really do try.
Your “you shoulds” and anecdotes hurt.
I know what I need, am telling you what it is. Help a girl out and listen to me.
Dear Doctor #1,
Uhm. “As you get older”
is not something you say to a perfectly healthy and super fit 30 year old
Especially if her name is Erin Green.
I still like you lots though,
Let’s not change a thing,
Please don’t let this come back to haunt me.
You are my saving grace.
But you already know this.
I’m sorry I neglected you for so long.
And let your chain rust.
And your tires soften.
Spring is coming. Payday is coming.
We’ll clean you up and be best friends again real soon.
Suck it up.
Please & thanks,