You're Pulling My Leg

I mean, I wish.

People, it’s happened: The Moms has officially snapped.

As you guys know, I pulled my hamstring at practice yesterday, but she’s acting like I broke my leg in three places or something. She was all over me last night, hovering like a . . . well, like an unnecessarily freaked-out Moms.

First there was the icing, which of course made sense. Then there was a Jacuzzi, which, to be honest, was kind of nice. But oh, no, it didn’t stop there—there was some Icy Hot, and then an ice pack, and then a heating pad.

My leg is cycling through the four seasons, every hour, on the hour.

Coach told me to take the rest of the week off, which is crummy, but whatever. I wish that were the worst of it.

Get this: The Moms is flying in Jennifer Aniston’s yoga guru (Can’t remember her name. I’m so not the kind of girl who would have that information handy. ) on Saturday for some therapeutic stretching.

I mean, really. Like we don’t have yogis in Philadelphia?

Right now I’m on strict bed rest with the leg in question elevated. PLEASE come visit me soon or I’m going to have to do something drastic . . . like try to walk to the bathroom by myself.

location: bed. DUH.
status: muscles atrophying from lack of use, brain atrophying from ABJECT BOREDOM
playlist: I’ve been listening to “Eye of the Tiger” on repeat in an effort to further depress myself. So far, it’s working.