Friday, September 17, 2004

I walk upstairs this morning to find this note on the table: "Don't worry about the smell. I'm cleaning the oven. Unless there are flames ... then worry." This sort of note is becoming more commonly found on my kitchen table ever since I left one saying, "Linda, call Mel. Hurry, may have gnawed off own arm." about a week ago.

I was in unbelievable pain earlier today, like on the ground rolling and groaning sort of pain for about 5 minutes. What happened was this: I was playing an average game of Heads and Volleys with the boys when someone decided it would be a good idea to kick the ball (soccer or football depending where you are from) at one of the other guys as hard as he could. This went on for a bit, no one actually hitting the others because we have decent reflexes for the most part and we are not uberiffic at soccer. Then Chris decided that it was my turn and so from 5 feet away he kicked the ball with a lot of force, mis-hit it so that it hit the water bottle on the ground and rebounded straight into the place that hurts guys a terrific amount when they get hit there with a soccerball traveling at high speed. Needless to say I dropped to the ground where I stayed for quite some time. The game was pretty dead after that, but I managed after about 15 minutes.

Tonight I will watch the Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy television series with Nwar.

Summary in seven words: Funny notes, excruciating and unbelievable pain. Stuff.

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