For instance, when I’m all pissy and I say mean things, I don’t tell you all the mean things I say. When Mike is a bundle of nerves and stress and is a butt head, I don’t tell you that. When I’m on my period and bloated and cranky… I don’t tell you that either.
When I have a friend come over to take naked pictures of me with a microphone covering one nipple and a martini covering the other? Nope, I don’t tell you that either. I may tell you that I don’t tell you that, but I totally don’t TELL you that.
So it should be no surprise to you that I didn’t tell you that almost a week ago I hurt my shoulder and that every night when I try to go to sleep it hurts.
So I’m not telling you any of those things I just said I’m not telling you, but maybe, just maybe I might tell you that if my shoulder isn’t feeling better by next week I’m going to have to give my doctor a little ring-a-ding to see what the hell is wrong with my sore shoulder.
Or maybe I just want him to dope me up.
Either way… Ouch.
4 thoughts on “I don’t tell you everything…”
oh boy, shoulder stuff sucks. i separated mine pretending i’m not in my midthirties (i.e. being a dumb ass and sliding head first in a beer league softball game) a couple years ago. i dislocated the shoulder, tore the rotator cuff and it royally screwed with my sleeping. i opted for PT over the knife and i’m doing pretty well now.
what the hell is wrong with me? my comment didn’t touch on any of the naked chick stuff in your post and only the shoulder… christ.
you are fine. just doing too much stuff and signing way too many autographs.
how about you turn off the tv, and go to bed early? muffin. that fixes lots of problems.
(heat and stretching also helps)
you’re right. you totally are a closed book. i feel like i don’t know you at all.
although i refuse to believe you say mean things. and i refuse to believe mike is a butthead.
i just don’t believe it. sorry.