My home Internet wasn’t working this morning. The reason it wasn’t working is I have no idea. But every morning I copyedit the DC Morning e-mail before it goes out, so today I had to do it on my iPhone. The iPhone was not intended for editing text. Nor for being a usable phone, but that’s another story.
Then I got on the Metro and the train was packed. Usually somebody gets up and lets the gimp sit, but not today. So I learned that I can ride on the Metro standing up on crutches without falling down.
The guy standing right next to me, an older, well-dressed gentleman, was hanging onto the overhead thing and had his armpit right in my face as he was talking to his friend. They were discussing matters financial. At one point he was pontificating about how he’s all for the estate tax because it’s dangerous for society to have all that money in so few hands, generation after generation. “It creates an aristocracy!” I did not ask him how the hell it’s his business what other people decide to do with their money, but I probably should have. If anybody can get away with chastising pompous strangers in public, it’s a cripple. Plus it would’ve been funny, because I basically dress like a homeless person.
Then I had physical therapy, then I came into the office and tried to blog, then I felt the usual despair that I have nothing and I am nothing, then I had some goldfish crackers and the despair went away, and the whole time my leg hurt, and wah, wah, wahhhhh.
Then I came home. Managed to get a seat on the train, even. As I got on the elevator in my building, so did a mother and her little girl, maybe 4 or 5. The girl looked up at me and said, “We saw you walking this morning!” I replied, “You did? I didn’t have these crutches, did I? I just found them!” She insisted that no I did not just find them, and I had no choice but to admit my error.
Then I typed this. And yes, they are paying me for this. And no, I don’t know why either.
THE END