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Saturday, 17 September 2011

It always happens that way

After I wrote yesterday's post, about taking my snazzy shoes to Peterborough, I ended up today having to spend the day in bed.  I was really disappointed about it---the Pride Brunch and parade had been in my calendar since the end of May.  I guess I was tempting those beings who keep us from getting too excited, too self-righteous or too shoe-proud.

When I was younger, I remember calling in to work, claiming I was sick, when I really wanted to sparkle up my apartment before my parents came.  They called to say they couldn't make it after all; I said the right things but took out my frustration by kicking the kitchen floorboard and the long fork fell off the wall thingy where it was hanging and put a long scrape along my leg.  I know I deserved it, but I hated having to hobble in to work the next day, make a connection between "being sick" and having a huge bandage on my calf, while accepting everyone's sympathy.

And that's just the oldest of the many stories I could tell about how I always got what I deserved.


  1. you're too hard on yrself. hope u're ok.

  2. What rdl said.
    You don't deserve to be sick ... unless you stayed up all night drinking yourself silly. Then, okay.

  3. How disappointing for you! You must take those snazzy shoes somewhere soon.