Tuesday, January 27, 2009

On narrowly escaping an entirely self-inflicted office furniture injury. Again.

Yesterday, as I was rising from my desk at home, I spun in the chair and rapped my knee against the desk with such force that the edges of the world went black.

Just so you know, I was not spinning with the velocity of say--the Tilt-a-Whirl--nor was I exerting any more force than I have discovered is absolutely necessary to heave and haul myself up and out of a chair.

As I clung to consciousness, head between my knees in what must have been the closest view I've had of the ground in two years (ooh, look, my good pen!), my first really clear thought was that, if rendered truly incapacitated, I would probably not be discovered until the Lost watch party on Wednesday.

My second was the surprising realization that, despite all that crap they told me in college, all my most vital processes seemed to be located directly behind my patella.

I am a medical miracle.

Image, Witte Museum.

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