Wanted: voodoo doll, money, and ankle brace

You know, I have to say that I am getting very weary of these stupid BPAP (Body Parts Against Paula) meetings.  They need to take a recess, hiatus, or dissolve entirely.

I am now back in an ankle brace.  And, to be honest, I have no idea what I did.  It slowly started getting sore and achy.  By bedtime I would be so sore that I’d have to take something to get it to calm down enough to sleep.  And those of you that know me, know how much I detest taking pain pills.

I was taking care not to twist it or roll it, but it kept feeling like I had done something.  Then yesterday the BPAP stepped it up.  They obviously have nothing better to do then mess with me.  My ankle kept grabbing and causing me pain.  It left me standing on my other leg looking around trying to find who had the voodoo doll.  Someone out there hates me and is in cahoots with the BPAP.  I’d offer a reward to find this person, but I have no money either….I think the person with the voodoo doll keeps taking it.

By yesterday evening, my ankle was swollen and making me scared to walk.  We looked everywhere for my brace that I had gotten the last time I rolled my ankle bad, but of course we couldn’t find it.  I’m pretty sure the person with the voodoo doll and my money has it.

Today my mommy got me a new one.  Because she loves me, is a wonderful mommy, and mainly because my complaining is annoying and I know her phone numbers and where to find her. (Look mom…it’s in print….not the complaining and annoying part, but instead the wonderful mommy part)

I’m really hoping that a few days weeks months in my brace will make it all better again and I will be able to walk in heels for my brother’s wedding in October.  Wish me luck.  Better yet…find the person with the voodoo doll, my money, and my other brace.  I’d be forever thankful.

In the meantime I’m considering starting a campaign to disband the BPAP altogether.  Maybe that is one I should add to my life list…disband the BPAP.  I’ll have to think on that one.

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