Lauren Brian @lbrianwrites@computerfairi.es

I survived quiverfull vampires and that one author who took THREE SELF-CONGRATULATORY BOOKS to get to his inciting incident, but I might not make it through this one.

and between that and an extra high level of free-on-amazon basic-level grammar torture (as in, we're not talking intentional distortions to make a point or for art, but failures of the building blocks of elemental, bare, sentence structure), I'm not sure I'll make it through this one.

However, in one book I have encountered both "he wanted to beat his fleshen tool into her maiden sex" and "hard pole of seeking invasion" in just the first two chapters, and

All right, I read crappy free-on-amazon sff ebooks, mostly for laughs. Free-on-amazon in sff usually means shifter romance, so I have become inured to a certain level of terrible euphemism. However --

Well, there's a king-sized bottle of antacids in my office for a reason, I suppose.

Don't mind me, I'm just going to go spend the rest of my lunch in the far bathroom. >_>;

Sigh.

Me: I've had a shit week, I deserve a treat. I'm going to buy the cafeteria's roast beef sandwich that I've been curious about trying for a while, even through it's half again as expensive as any other sandwich!

Me: *takes one bite*
Me: *immediately regrets all life choices that led to this point*
Me: *Finishes the whole damn sandwich anyway because I paid good sandwich money for it, dammit*

Not one, not two, but THREE Bert I. Gordon movies have arrived from interlibrary loan for me today.

I feel like I'm coming down with something and I'd really like to go home and take a test for it, but it's Monday and our normally 3-man-short department is a 5-man-short department, so I have to stay. Lean staffing can bite my diseased ass.

Two weeks to doc referral, and hopefully less to physio consult. It's all so dumb. Stupid knees, let me walk!

And now, my damn knees barely let me walk the length of my building, and my coworkers, bless 'em, are trying to sneakily do my needs-walking tasks for me. Because I look so bad staggering around.

I will never forget my ex, on seeing that my knees weren't working, and that I asked for their arm to help control the worst of the limping, told me with condescension that "people like me" needed to give "real people" like them prior notice in writing of any assistance I might need so that they, the real people, could decide if what I was asking was "appropriate."

I've always had crappy knees. They used to only react to specific triggers -- airplane and theater seats, mostly (and that one time I wore a 30lb costume in dress shoes a size too small for over eight hours straight with nowhere to sit, but honestly, I can forgive them that one) -- and I could hide it from most everyone.

It is, apparently, too much to ask. I knew it would be, but god damn, this is ridiculous.

All right, if I can't have a working knee all day, can I at least avoid staggering like I'm having a seizure in front of my coworkers? Can my other knee not acquire arthritis before I actually get a referral for my physio appointment? I feel like that's not too much to ask.