How to motivate

To those who do not know, bout 4 years ago my ankle fell apart. After grumbling about it a bit and having people point out that it was often 3x the size of close to normal I went to ye old Dr for an opinion. 9 doctors and a small fortune later (don’t recommend starting a business and or not having insurance during COVID bullshit) I walked in to the specialist who finally figured out my issue (extra bone. Yessssss) He was looking back and forth for quite awhile from me to my MRI shaking his head. Having seen many movies where this is followed with rather poor news I asked the big question, “well, do I get a peg leg”. He shook his head and replied “Nope I’m just trying to figure out how you walked in here”. Turns out willpower and a tightly laced pair of Haix boots (well they were converse at the time but fuck you for discontinuing that model and then fuck you rebook for cheapening them) HAIX boots can take you a step or two farther than most. After a years worth of surgery and healing I had the luxury of being in a car accident and fucking up my back THE DAY I got my cast off. Shenanigans. Backstory completed the following is my reply to how I am getting up to go work on a job today. Enjoy.

I’m about bare minimum functioning.  Got about an hour of sleep last night.  Going to run to Menards for a couple of things I completely forgot about around 9-930.  I’ll message you when I’m headed your way.  Just going to do what I can do without going backwards.  Kind of hoping if I push it a little things might pop in a positive direction.  This is my mantra “Right foot, clench jaw, left ankle do you read? Are we clear for planting?  Back wants to know.  Come in left ankle, come in.  Left ankle hello?  Is this thing on?  Headquarters to back, we think left ankle needs a psyche evaluation ,went union or is KIA….wait nope just late to the party we are picking up something ‘transmission is in early Klingon and loosely translates to “yippee kayay mother fucker” somehow left ankle is holding up two middle fingers to back and mouthing “I dare you” with a PMS stare.   Back dares.  Back dares. Oh sweet jeebus back dares!  Buckle up Buttercup chant begins.  Gregorian monks chime in with “I can do this” high notes.  Successful stride. Unclench jaw.  Small victory celebration. Repeat.  Life in the fast lane.  When I stop to smell the roses the scent is that of napalm and they recoil at the look in my eyes.   Pansies.   <— see what I did there?