My foot appears to have inexplicably healed itself. This morning on my walk from the bus stop to my office, it hurt as just bad as it has the past three days. Usually it is fine when I’m sitting (with it elevated) at my desk, but hurts as soon as I get up and take a few steps. But on my lunch break today, it occurred to me that it had stopped hurting. Completely.
Now, I’m not sure how exactly this happened, but I have three equally viable hypotheses:
1. Hockey tape. The lovely shiny black heels that I bought when I first got my job have not been fairing well. In fact, the little rubber thingys* on the bottom of the heels had completely worn away within about two weeks of me buying them. Like, worn away so completely that the metal post** inside the heel was poking out of the bottom. I’m too cheap to take them to a shoe repair place (they only cost $30, so I can’t bring myself to spend any amount on fixing them) and I’ve been meaning to do a homemade repair job on them for ages. This morning, before work, I finally got the trusty old hockey tape out and put a few layers on the bottom of each heel to replace the aforementioned thingys. And now, after a few hours of wearing them***, my half-marathon foot injury has miraculously abated. Clearly, hockey tape has magical healing powers.
2. Alternatively, Shalu is magic. Shalu and I met up for lunch (as we work at the same site) and had gone outside in search of free veggie dogs, cake and chips.**** And it was while we were outside that it occurred to me that my foot wasn’t hurting. Clearly, either hockey tape, or Shalu, is magic.
3. Or, there is a synergistic effect of hockey tape + Shalu that is magic.
Of course, given the fact that my coffee ground vomitus-inducing stomach troubles also mysteriously cleared up with no help whatsoever from the medical profession*****, there is the possibility that the lab accident with the nuclear radiation, the genetically-modified spider, the particle physics machine and that goo from outer space has rendered me an invincible superhero*****, but I think there’s really just an outside chance of that being the case.
Update: I had written the above on my Palm Pilot, sitting in a coffee shop on Dunbar Street after work as it was far too sunny and nice to be at home. I thought it was a nice posting – brief, to the point, pithy. Yes, pithy, as in of, like, or abounding in pith. And accurate. And then life sent in a monkey wrench, as life is wont to do. In order to post this, I had to come home and sync it to my computer (as I don’t have wirelessness on my Palm). Coming home involves walking down a stupid hill (and just ask Kelly abou that hill!). And now my foot hurts again. Not a lot, but a bit. Boo-urns.
*I have no idea what the correct name of those thingys are. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
**Did you know that there is a metal post inside of high heels? I had no idea. Hadn’t really thought about what would be inside the heels, actually.
***Yes, I decided to wear my heels today, despite having an injured foot. Don’t judge.
****There was a celebratory BBQ at our work site where free food was given out. Good times.
*****No caffeine! As if!
******or super villian.