Zseni wrote:

The boss put on an ice pack and told me I could sob.
The doctor slapped a cast on and asked me if I sewed (not making that up)
I told him to fix my fucking foot because the pain fucking blowed.
The x-ray technician asked me if I were preggers (three times);
I can't think of any word with which "preggers" might rhyme.
But worker's comp is picking up the dime for everything!
Believe me, I got every possible bit of medical bling.
The cast is from Japan; my physical therapist from Taiwan...
I'd rather have my ankle work than have a gift for song.

Actually it's just a ligament something something but I can't fucking walk on that foot. I can't roller skate for a while, but I get a month of not-actual-work at actual-work pay at my union-ass job, and everyone has to be nice to me. I swear to god, getting hurt on the job at a union shop is like skinning your knee when you're four. The whole planet is exhorbitantly solicitous. The sups all over the building came over to tease me back to health and offer to get drinks, and I'd spent the previous part of the shift calling them all infant rapists and cocksuckers (to their faces.)

I'm sorry, but it was totally fucking swee to get hurt on the job and now I know why everyone is doing it.

Anyone want to recommend some fun drinks to go with my prescription for ibuprofen? The pills are as big as my thumbnail.