Hello everyone.
It's your old pal Will here. I made it back to work today just after the lunchtime check-in. I've been out over a week in solitary confinement. Last Wednesday, as you all know, I was launched from my motorcycle by some asshole in a hurry.
Word of advice- If you hit a motorcyclist, or cause an accident involving a motorcyclist, hang up your phone, stop your goddamn car, and see if the guy's OK. He's probably hurting.
Anyways, so I've been laid out in pain for the past week. My excitement over being able to kick back and enjoy my recuperation time was hampered by the fact that I found out that Percocet makes me want to fucking puke. So I resorted to drinking alcohol to numb the pain, which can also cause vomiting, but I know my tolerance level.
So I'm sitting around in pain and drunk, and my kid gets the flu. Yay! Thank you. Did I mention I'm not getting laid with my Colonel?
Now somewhere over this time at home I must have hit my crazy limit, because on Monday I walked right into my bathroom and shaved myself to a baby's-butt freshface. I only had two days to go! What was I thinking?
It was a moment of lunacy... or sanity.
- Will
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