It's been almost a month?
More than a month.
And I have no idea what happened in that month.
Oh, if I thought intensely I could probably come up with something.
But I'll just start off with more recent news.
I'm a cripple.
A pretty much healed cripple, but I am one. My knee still throbs, occasionally.
I played soccer (which is almost always a bad option). I got kicked in the foot. My leg turned stiff. I stopped playing soccer. I sat at the side of the field and stared at my foot. The game ended. I went to Chapters. I hobbled through Chapters. Then I went to the Sound of Music festival. I hobbled around in search of my companions. I listened to the Arkells (Well worth a little hobbling). I hobbled back to the car. I drove home. I went to bed. I woke up, and still hobbled. I decided to go to work. I picked up Jasmine, and drove to work. At work, I hobbled. I got called a gimp. I worked. My knee swelled up. I left work, and went to the Urgent Care Centre. They asked my how much it hurt on a scale of one to ten, I said four. They took my blood pressure, and didn't get a reading. They were pretty sure I was alive, so they tried it again. I got a bracelet with my name on it. I sat on a bed, across from a guy named Trevor with tattoos and a broken finger. The doctor came diagnosed me as a loosened ligament. He wrapped my leg with a plaster splint, and bandage. He told me not to put any weight on it for a few days, and gave me crutches.
I texted Ruth, and she said she had no work for a cripple and told me to go home.
I ditched the crutches after a day and a half. They are so dang uncomfortable.
I am very glad I am not permanently crippled.
I believe my relationship with soccer ends here.
Because of this, I stayed home from work today and I decided to start fulfilling the long put off painting of my room.
I took all the pictures down off my walls, and uncovered many long lost sharpie scrawls. The amount of old songs going through my head was ridiculous. I jumped from Secondhand Serenade, Coldplay, Jack Johnson, Rob Thomas and Counting Crows, as I slowly scrubbed their lyrics off my walls.
Goodness, that is a lot of work, Sharpie scrubbing.
I'll think twice before I scribble again.
I also removed a lot of memories? Some memories I had actually forgotten about. I stumbled across a marking of my height, from the 26th of May 2009, with a note beside it that said. "When you are taller...". (...Keegan? I think there was some sort of promise, an expectation to look forward to, for when I grew. I can't remember what it was in the least, and fortunately, I have not grown a single millimeter since that day and so have not earned any such compensation)
My walls are so bare now. I'm not sure how I feel about it. It's making me sorta sentimental.
It was...very much time though.
Very much so.
