Dragging
That word would best describe this week. And I don't just mean what I'm doing with my leg while I try to walk. This week just seems like its taking forever to get to Friday. Know what I mean? Not like I have anything huge planned for the weekend. Concert on Saturday night, family function on Sunday. Fun stuff.
The leg is healing, and unfortunately the truth is out. My mom, who works for my primary care physician, got a letter from my orthopedic doctor summing up the reason for my visit and treatment. So I get a phone call from my mother a little while ago, and the first words out of her mouth are, "You fell off a motorcycle?!?!" All of a sudden my heart and mind are racing, thinking to myself, how the hell did she know that? Then she explained it, and I simply said F it, and explained it all. Of course she called my dad before she called me, and he was calling me while I was on the phone with her. I can't win, huh?
Yeah, so basically I attempted to learn how to ride a motorcycle, with disastrous results. I didn't make it twenty feet before I started working everything incorrectly and wiped out, dragging my leg down with me. Thankfully I didn't get hurt worse, the bike, which wasn't mine, obviously, was OK, and I'm healing up. All that was ruined was a perfectly good pair of shorts that I was wearing. Very little harm, very small foul. Lesson learned, believe me. That is the first and last time I get on a motorcycle.