|That's magic-fun-faster-pixie dust on there, not regular old boring dust.|
So it's done. Now I wish someone would feed me. I'm hungry. And my DH is in the basement on a skype call for his software. I need something I can whip up, and have it be fine until whenever he is done.
I'm ready to stuff this motherfucking wrist brace up someone's ass. It's annoying. It's a PITA. I can't sew, I can hardly operate utensils, my handwriting has suffered greatly. And to really rub salt in the wounds, it still hurts when I take the brace off and bend my wrist. I have an appointment with my ortho guy on Thursday, but CRIPES I'm sick of this crap. The brace is itchy, hot, and disgusting after a spin workout. I washed it on Saturday because it was literally full of sweat. How grody is that? I take it off to run, but I have to wear it when I spin, or I end up bending it and leaning on it. So, while I know there are starving kids in Africa who have it much worse than I do, I'm still going to bitch about it. So there.