Thursday, March 03, 2011
Injuries
I'm afraid I've developed what is undoubtedly a serious medical condition, which I shall term "office elbow." It stems from the fact that for some reason I have started resting my elbows on the desk when I type; the resulting pressure on my elbows makes them sore. I can't say I totally remember what my elbows typically look like (and actually it's a bit difficult to look at one's elbows at all), but looking at them now I get the distinct impression that they are a bit swollen. And I find myself randomly massaging my elbows when I'm not at my desk, which makes me look like a bit of a pervert. Frankly, I ought to be granted workman's comp immediately.
Of course, this could also stem from the fact that I fell down on my own front steps at 8 AM Tuesday. I had tried to make an early morning run to the dry cleaners, but I found out they had closed permanently since my last visit. (Clearly, I need to get to the dry cleaners more often. Thank God I didn't have anything there I needed to pick up.) So my choice was between running back home again and taking ten dirty shirts with me to the office on the red line. In my haste to do the former, I tripped up my front steps and landed in a heap of my own shirts on the front doormat. And at exactly that moment my downstairs neighbor opened the front door to bring her dogs out for a walk, and I got a face full of terrier. Suffice it to say that I probably have to move now.
I'm afraid I've developed what is undoubtedly a serious medical condition, which I shall term "office elbow." It stems from the fact that for some reason I have started resting my elbows on the desk when I type; the resulting pressure on my elbows makes them sore. I can't say I totally remember what my elbows typically look like (and actually it's a bit difficult to look at one's elbows at all), but looking at them now I get the distinct impression that they are a bit swollen. And I find myself randomly massaging my elbows when I'm not at my desk, which makes me look like a bit of a pervert. Frankly, I ought to be granted workman's comp immediately.
Of course, this could also stem from the fact that I fell down on my own front steps at 8 AM Tuesday. I had tried to make an early morning run to the dry cleaners, but I found out they had closed permanently since my last visit. (Clearly, I need to get to the dry cleaners more often. Thank God I didn't have anything there I needed to pick up.) So my choice was between running back home again and taking ten dirty shirts with me to the office on the red line. In my haste to do the former, I tripped up my front steps and landed in a heap of my own shirts on the front doormat. And at exactly that moment my downstairs neighbor opened the front door to bring her dogs out for a walk, and I got a face full of terrier. Suffice it to say that I probably have to move now.
