My Ribs Are Trashed

Y’know…

In Monday’s post, I asked for a break.

Well, I got what I asked for…in a way.

Monday, in the deep, dark of the Bagwine night, I went to throw some trash into the dumpster at work.

While the picture that you see is a picture of the dumpster at our apartment complex, the one at work looks much the same.

And hence, this post...

I took the trash out at work Monday night, but when I threw open the lid, it started to come back down.

Acting like the 23 year old that I think that I am, I jumped and lunged at the descending lid and smashed my left side ribs into the Vulcanized steel of the dumpster.

While I have an incredible tolerance for pain, I almost passed out…and nearly threw up. I hit it that hard.

Because of the sheer force and torque of my incredible thighs (and yes, Schmoop can confirm that “incredible” claim) that propelled me…

It was like getting blindsided by Ray Lewis after catching a short, over the middle pass or taking a body shot from George Foreman.

It…fricking…hurt.

And so, rather than working on Tuesday, Pizza Bill graciously agreed to work for me, and I will work for him on Friday.

On top of that, the owner, Drive-By Mike (Thanks for the name, Phfrankie), said to Schmoop as she went through the Drive-Thru late Tuesday...

“Some people will do anything to get out of work.”

That’s so sweet.

Ha…I think he was kidding.

Here’s the thing...with bruised, cracked, or broken ribs…Ya can’t do a damn thing about them. They just have to heal.

Well folks, I can’t bend over. I can’t get comfortable in order to sleep.

I can’t flex my colon without pain in order to rid myself of the sub that Pizza Bill gave me Monday night.

More than painful, my condition is very, very, annoying and time consuming. Hell, it took me nearly 40 minutes to shower and get dressed Tuesday.

I wish my ribs were healthy, sexy, and looked as good as though as those that support Mizz Megan Fox, but alas, they are fucked up.

Mine…not hers.

And guess what else?

I can’t sit down, because it puts pressure on my bruised bones, and yet, I have to go to Ryno’s today and type out a Science Report that he wrote.

But, being the good father that I am, I will go over there by 10 AM and oversee said Science Project for the little guy.

In my, what may seem to be, over dramatized distress, I want to thank Schmoop, Pizza Bill, and Drive-By Mikey and his wife…

I appreciate all of their shift switching, help around the house, and offers of painkilling narcotics.

Cheers!!