Note from the Chief Bottle Finder: Nothing like an injury to elicit appreciation for those oft-forgotten body parts – especially the ones responsible for getting us around (which, depending on your disposition on couch-potato-ness, could be seen as a opportunity for increased levels of sloth-li-ness – YES!).
To my foot that is now broken and cast in a hot sweaty boot:
All these years I have taken you for granted. You helped me run countless laps in high school sports, dance in and on bars, and walk thousands of miles across the globe. You’ve walked me away from countless bad choices, and led me into countless magical misadventures. You’ve silently endured horrific paint jobs. You’ve supported me when no one else could. Occasionally you’ve given out on me, like the time you mysteriously gave way beneath me, in the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday and I hadn’t even been drinking, but you’re always there when I brush myself off and stand back up. Through it all you’ve never complained, even when I have dropped heavy things on you or failed to give you the proper support.
What I’m saying is that I’m nothing without you. Bike riding just isn’t the same without you. I can’t bring myself to dance at all. It’s like a part of me is missing, and it is, foot. I need you in my life. Please get well, and come back to me. I promise I’ll give you the support you deserve and never do anything to hurt you again.
with love,
the rest of me
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