No, I wouldn’t dare do anything dangerous like golfing. Golf clubs + golf ball + me = not a good thing. I’d probably take out a power transformer and blackout half the planet. But this week, I’ve had golfer’s elbow. I got it with a pretty ordinary movement, twisting my arm inward. I was absolutely astounded that such a simple thing could cause such excruciating pain! When I first hurt it, any movement made me jump or double up. Like unlocking my door, putting my jacket on, and the worst of all — having to reach out of my car to get a ticket from the parking machine.
Then there’s cooking. I’ll admit it. I don’t get warm fuzzy feelings about cooking. I have to do it, but I don’t like it, so my time spent is as minimal as possible. Having Golfer’s Elbow presented the problem that even the basic cooking skills were a little hard to do. It’s not hard to imagine a trip to the emergency room because I was cutting a bell pepper or something, twisted my arm, and well …
Ahem. There is a disadvantage to being a writer.
So I’ve headed for the TV dinners. Had spinach pizza. Hmm. Liking this. Thinking it might be worth cutting back on the cooking part a couple times a week.
‘Fess up! Have you ever had something you didn’t really like to do and found a convenient — or inconvenient — excuse not to do it?