I'm not complaining....

So, one of my favorite poems we studied in high school was "I'm Not Complaining" by Philip Schultz. And the entire poem is a complaint, it's really a great piece of work :) You should read it. So, I thought it would be funny to do a similar blog post. Enjoy! And really, I'm NOT complaining :) (And no plaigarism here, I learned about that in high school too -- for the first and last lines, I give full credit to Mr. Schultz, the rest is purely me.)

It isn't as if I've...been subjected throughout my whole life to broken bones or torn ACLs, in fact on the contrary the worst casualty I'd sustained before this year was a severely stubbed toe, and a bad case of mono I guess, oh and tuberculosis, but it seems 2010 has it in for my ankles, I promise I usually look where I'm going and step carefully, except for that time in college when a British kid told me I drag my feet too much, maybe he's right, or maybe I'm spacey, but I was just innocently walking along the sidewalk near church, and staring up at the building next door (because it happened to be an LDS temple, which are notoriously incredible buildings, and deserve a glance or two extra), when I noticed my left foot fishing around in the air and not finding the ground that was supposed to be there, and then it found the ground, but at a funny angle, and I thought "Who on earth put that step in the middle of the sidewalk," but apparently most people are able to step appropriately and accurately, but luckily those accurate-steppers were nearby to help find ice (which they couldn't) and the friend I was walking with did the much-needed job of convincing me that it was the step's fault, which it was, and she helped me hobble back to the car, and we both swore that from that day foreward, I would always keep my eyes glued on the ground when I neared that subtle step, which I did for three months, until I got to daydreaming again about where I could snap a good picture of the temple, with my camera that I finally remembered to bring, and before I knew what was happening, well, I did know what was happening, because my right foot was fishing in the air for something that wasn't there, and it's amazing how many thoughts can go through your head in 1.5 seconds, like "Oh shoot, I forgot to look for the step! Can we rewind 3 seconds and do this over? I'll get it right, I promise!" and then as I hear my foot crunch under me, I think "Uh uh, this is not possible, is this really happening AGAIN!?" and then as I'm sitting there on the ground holding my other ankle, I hear the spattering of lots of hurried feet, and I pray that it's not the same accurate-steppers who saw me in this disgraceful position last time, and thank goodness, it was some very understanding not-the-same-as-last-time folks, a little young perhaps, but who told me it was a tricky step and that it called for a good glance-over or two before passing over it, to which I replied that unfortunately this was the second time I had failed the attempted sidewalk step, and that all I really wanted to do was take a picture, and my new friends jumped to the task, though of course not without first capturing a photo of me in my regular position, so although I've had two sprained ankles in the past 3 months, and although my jogging work-out schedule has been totally shot because all I can do is pilates-type goofy air-bicycle floor exercises, and although both of my ankles were swollen to the size of grapefruits (well, small grapefruits) and turned the color of eggplants, and even though they're both almost healed, I have to admit that when I stretched to reach the milk on the top grocery shelf today, I though I had pulled another ligament, and though I'm wondering if my weak ankles will ever regain their former strength, I must say that my lack of sidewalk-step-foresight has given me one of the most hilarious stories of my life, and has shown me that no matter if it's a close friend or total stranger by your side, people are there to let you lean on them when you're not strong, and they'll be your friend, they'll help you carry on, and so I just want you to know that even if things are lookin' kind of awful for me right now, and even if you're feeling this overwhelming sense of pity and want to send me flowers and chocolates and get well cards, I think you should know that...at heart I'm not really complaining....