"She said, 'Believe it or not, I used to be idealistic.' I asked her what 'idealistic' meant. 'It means you live by what you think is right.' 'You don't do that anymore?' 'There are questions I don't ask anymore.'"
By the time you are reading this my cast will be off, my wrist will be free, and I will have the simple pleasure of being able to do things again like a normal person.
I am expecting some soreness and some muscle atrophy, but I am already thinking of the things my wrist and I are going to do together when we are reunited at last.
Perhaps we will open a bunch of jars and close them again. Maybe we'll go for a walk and give strangers high fives and handshakes just because we can. And then we will have a good time opening a bottle of purelle after each encounter- just to be safe. Then maybe we will snap our fingers along to harmonic melodies. Maybe we'll go to a rock show and when the band performs a mellow ballad, we can bring out a lighter and wave it in the air rhythmically. Oh and then we can eat properly again with utensils. And in celebration of being capable again, I will get all dolled up and have a party. I will wash my hair (by myself!) and braid it and tie my shoelaces and give thumbs-up signs to everyone who will accept them.
And then I will write about these adventures. With a pencil! Because now I have the ability to hold one!
FANTASTIC!
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