And yet, the truth is that, excepting the snapped-like-a-twig bone stuff, there's really not so much new going on in my life now as compared to all the rest of it. Well, that's not exactly true. There's lots new, because I get bored easily. But I mean, this particular chaotic state is nothing new. It's something I've been aware of since I was 13 or so, as far as how I seem to operate in the world: Circumstances seem way out of control, and everything just seems destined to spiral into a bigger and bigger pile of Uh-Oh...

Internally, I shrug and think, "Open for business as usual during our crisis..."

Like really, what else are you gonna do? Saying, for instance ... if you were a store owner in the fictional Marvel Comics New York City ... okay, obviously moving is out of the question. So what do you do, when every other week, there's some amorphous blob eating people or new crime ring extorting people, that Daredevil or Spiderman have to defeat? How about the Hitler-esque would-be world conquerers, or random pissed-off mutants for the X-Men to fight? Let's not even get into other-worldly or other-dimensional threats, alien threats, evil ancient gods, attacks from beneath the sea, time-traveling bad guys...

The point being, between giving all the superheroes in town something to do on a regular basis -- if you close your store every time something disastrous happens, you'll be open maybe two days a year.

"Okay, I know, a giant soul-eating, fire-breathing, alien lava-monster is slaughtering bystanders while taking on the Avengers not a block away -- are you gonna buy something or not?"

You get my point. Things suck, but you gotta make a living. Now myself, I don't have any actual lava monsters. Just the BadFoot, a job that doesn't go well with that, an unreal amount of schoolwork to make up for if I wanna stay in the passing zone, and an unfortunate tendency to get stoned and sleep a lot instead of doing it. Oh, and an ever-increasing pile of bills that I really must get around to sorting out. Oh yeah, and this sad tendency to spend all my time on the computer, either playing a particular computer game or screwing around on diaryland.

So you can see how well I'm dealing with my issues.

Anyway, I am gonna take a shower. (See, this is part of the problem. Bet taking a shower sounds simple to you, eh? Well, try it on one foot. Really not so simple, then. This has compounded the not-getting-things-done problem. Going downstairs to get something you left in your car, for instance -- it's now a 20-minute ordeal, rather than a 2 minute distraction. But, as usual, I digress...) I'll take a shower, put in some laundry (desperately need to) on the way back stop at my car and get some books, and then commence with the fantastic works of fiction I must churn out today.

Those works include: a "daily journal" for my acting class, for which I will make up three weeks of entries in one day, an outline for a scene I must do for that class, for which I will also make up a character, as I haven't been there in the last three weeks to get the instructor's fantastic tutelage. Also, must write a pscyh paper, and order a book that we sincerely hope will be...

Agh, screw it. Thinking of all the stuff I have to do makes my head hurt. Bit by bit. Business as usual, as we s ay...

I also wanted to give a shoutout to my new friend kimbaleigh, for the small but crucial kindness of bidding me good tidings for my broken ankle. Really, having now adjusted to being a uniped, there are some basic considerations I've come to truly appreciate. There are those honestly decent people in the world who can see another person hobbling about, and realize that it must really suck to be them. Holding a door perhaps, taking the time to not cut them off or kick their bad leg ... I mean, just allowing for the fact that you're moving slower, you're much more awkward, and yes, moving is a Great Big Hassle when you're balancing yourself on two long sticks.

On the other hand, there unfortunately are those who seem to think it's a minor inconvenience and nothing more, who would never deign to consider offering help to someone clearly having a difficult time at something simple or, more irritatingly, who actually contribute to making it harder for the poor one-legged person -- rushing past in an elevator for instance, where there's a good chance you'll hit a crutch, which only happens to be one of two things keeping the guy from going face-first into the ground. Jerk.

Eh. My new pet peeve, tho, are all the people who think it's somehow charming to use words like "gimp", "gimpy", "cripple" and such. This is somewhat like the mentality of a friend I saw yesterday, who, prior to launching into a long monologue about the unfortunate melancholy state of her existence, stated briefly in reference to my difficulty in standing from a chair, "Well, it'll be better in a couple of weeks."

Why yes, it will be better. Thank you for that, it really hadn't occurred to me.

See, I hadn't said, "H., when we first met today you bitched at me for not waiting for you ... one, that whole 'standing' thing isn't quite as inconsequential for me these days as it is for you, and two, I move real fucking slow, so I waited as long as I could and came in as late as I could while maintaining only a minor chance of being knocked over."

Nor did I say,"Even as I causally asked if you'd wait a moment so the bulk of the crowd would be ahead of us, and offered that it was no big deal because I still had to put on my wrist braces so that my crutches wouldn't hurt so fantastically bad after I pull them from the floor behind my chair, I still did not actually say a word about how much all of this is a pain in my ass."

What I did say was, "Yes, but it still sucks right now." And I left it at that.

My point is, just as you'd be an ass to say to someone who was actually born without a foot, "Well, at least you're used to it..." Telling someone who's temporarily disabled, "Well, it'll get better..." is really kind of a jerk move.

What am I, 9 years old? Of course it'll get better. Hey, I have been walking most of my life, and trust me, I've paid enough attention in the last few weeks to do my best to insure that I will walk again as soon as possible. I don't need a condescending assurance that it gets better later, anymore than I need comments that make light of the situation now.

I swear, this one fucker at work has been calling me shit like "Gimpy" and "Hopalong" from day one. You fucker, you wouldn't even be at work if you were in my shoes, let alone trying to keep up with classes as well. And I'm not complaining! At least, not off-line I'm not.

But to make a completely over-dramatic and inaccurate analogy: In one psych class last week, they showed a bit of video about a woman who'd had two guys break into her appartment and rape her, then her roomate. (Strangely enough, a female friend of mine actually had a guy break into her place not so long ago, and try to rape her roomate. He ran off, but has apparently since tried to get back in, so they're moving ... strange how life reflects class. Anyway...) So if you knew someone who'd just been violently attacked and raped, would it even occur to you to say, "Well, at least in a few years you'll be able to enjoy sex and maybe trust men again"?

I know, that's so far in a different realm as to make my comparison ridiculous. I'm just saying a lack of sympathy about something you can't relate to pisses me off.