Recently, like everyone else on earth, I have been sicker than I’ve ever been before.
It started out a month ago with the flu, which turned into bronchitis. Then I went to get my allergy shots, had a weirdo reaction and wound up with a giant arm. This was bad, because it looked like one side of my body had gained 60 pounds and because I couldn’t put on my shirts, but it was good because I got to complain about it almost constantly. Complaining, as you know, is my favorite hobby.
Here’s an example.
Me: Wanna see something gross?
Coworker Mads: No.
Me: OK, lookit.
Coworker Mads: Ew! What’s wrong with your arm?
Me: It’s giant. It’s a giant arm. Look, this part is red and scaly, too.
Finally, Mads convinced me to call my doctor, who prescribed prednisone, which made my arm go back to normal, but brought back my chest infection. So now I’m sick again.
At least I still have things to complain about.
No more giant arm? Boo!
I hope you used the opportunity of having a giant arm to re-enact scenes from “Over The Top.”