Give Him An Inch, He Takes A Couple Of Feet.

This past week I put in a five day work week. Most people will read that sentence and think “And?” The ‘and’ is it’s a feat because the past two or three weeks before that I missed a fair bit of time. Do I deserve a medal? Yes, I always deserve top rewards but in this case no, I don’t even deserve a “Thanks Kris for your amazing service, we salute you.” What I do deserve is a paycheque and that is what I will receive, not world wide recognition and accolades up the wazoo. Welcome to my frontal lobe. Stay awhile.

One thing became abundantly clear: working five days in a row on your feet in my feets condition and trying to avoid the anti-inflamms equals hell on oyth. Day four and five was though I was walking on red hot coals. When I took off my shoes and socks I swear it was like a human heart: red and pulsing and clenching and throbbing. An aorta sorta situation. It’s at the point where I’ve started doing hour long hand stand sessions at home, soon honing the ability to hand walk. Don’t worry, I’ll wear gloves. Last thing I need is more hep c.

The good news is I’m getting steroid injections in my feet soon. The bad news is I’m getting steroid injections in my feet soon. Imagine the most sensitive spot on the human bod and the set of them are about to get a nice juicy 21 gauge poker stabbing into it. Hoping there’s gonna be 2-300 hundred pound dudes holding each leg down because I guarantee you I’m gonna kick like a baby stallion on prom night. My hooves are gonna want none of that but alas for a greater good. The ability to walk without pain is probably worth it, I’m just spitballing.

My ability to do the waltz and the macarena have taken a hit. Instead of hitting up the local 24 hour dance clubs I’ve been forced to stay home. Moonwalking and even roller skating are out if you can believe it. I can’t even tiptoe around on egg shells if there was the time and place. I’d have to sit out, dejectedly, like a freak. You wanna ask me to skip with you down to the corner market? ‘Fraid not.

But what I can do is star in your local production of Frankenstein. What I can do is a bang-on impression of one Terry Fox. You want me to chase you? Put on your swim suit ’cause I’ll be all over you. Instead of a romantic walk by the beach you want to wait til it’s 5 degrees in the winter then walk in icy cold melty puddles? Dang that’d feel good. I might even kiss ya.

In the end folks, feet are just like the months in a year. You got 10 toes and 2 heels. I’m talking about January through December. No I’m not, I’m talking about feet, focus. You only have 2 of them. Make ’em last. You wanna wear cowgirl boots and a western shirt to work one day? Surely you’re allowed. But make sure those boots have decent arch support. Rant complete.