Rehab

Yesterday, I went to my first day of rehab. Not that kind of rehab, you jerk. Rehab for my ailing knee. And my wish was granted. Within 10 minutes of beginning the session, electrotherapy pads were placed on my muscle and electric shocks were sent through my muscle, causing my quad muscle to quiver with joy and happiness (you have a dirty dirty mind). My PT left the room as I played with my new electric muscle stimulator — I turned up the juice, feeling the pins and needles ripple through my leg and up into my hip.

I am no longer permitted to engage in any lower body exercise. In particular, my PT has told me that I am not allowed to drop it like it’s hot (he might of said squats, but my memory is a little fuzzy). I suppose I need to withdraw my name from the tryouts for American Gladiator and So You Think You Can Dance. Damn. My entire routine was dropping it like it’s hot combined with shadow boxing. I was going to coin a new trademark dance called Popping it Like It’s Hot.

Today is also a bad allergy day. My nose is running like a faucet and my eyes are watering like I just watched the Notebook. The only thing getting me through this week is the anticipation of waiting for my Jonathan to perform on Friday on the Today Show. Step Five — don’t you know that the time is right! Ugh! Yes Jon, the time is right. You may be pushing 40, but in my heart, you will always be a new kid.

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