na foine ting

Saturday, April 30, 2005
It all caught up with me.

About five minutes ago.

I hurt, I'm tired of hurting constantly, I'm tired of the struggle, day to day, to just get around. Feeling like half a person. Pissed off at my foot for hurting, and even more pissed off at it for being useless.

I chose being laid off from my job rather than commute to San Francisco, mostly because I'd like my kids to remember my name at the end of the week ("who're you? We have *two* moms?").

I miss hockey so bad I want to cry.

Cry enough to make a big rink and skate on salt ice and dribble a puck around, except my fucking foot won't fit in a skate, even if I could put enough weight on it to skate.

I want one of those Cadbury easter eggs, the disgusting kind that are so sugary they make my teeth hurt.

Because, for one, it's chocolate. And it sounds good.

And anyway, maybe if my teeth hurt it would take my mind off my foot for a while.

Fuck this shit.

I want to be on the ice.

I gave up my roster spot on the Ice Hounds, because the reality is, as Noel pointed out, I won't even be there half a season.

Tonight, I'm done being brave about it. I hurt, I'm tired, I want a stick and a puck and my skates and a fucking chocolate easter egg.


That's all.

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