I hurt my back this weekend. I was looking for my diplomas, if you can imagine that. I haven't seen the things in years. But one of my new employers wants a copy of each to, I don't know, prove to someone I actually have them, I guess. I looked in my current filing area. No diplomas. So I tackled a closet in the bedroom where I keep stuff from home I don't need but don't want to get rid of. All those research papers from graduate school, tons of linguistic books, and maybe some diplomas. A big, full filing box was up on a shelf, I took it down in a way that did not please my left hip or my entire lower back. Picky, picky, picky.
So, since saturday morning my back's been pissed at me. I was hoping things would just kind of work themselves back into place, but apparently not. So, yesterday, while continuing to look for the diplomas, I called around to see if I could get an appointment, quickly, with an osteopath. Done! One I've seen before, who is quite competent, could see me on tuesday. Yeah! And, bonus, yesterday afternoon I found one (out of three) diploma. But, even better, I found a transcript from all three degree programs with DEGREE EARNED at the bottom. Given that all of it's in English anyway and the fact that I seriously doubt the person who'll be reading it will actually be reading it, I figure the transcripts will do the trick.
This morning I went to see the osteopath. Who I've seen before, who has never hurt me or said anything even slightly cooky.
For one hour I was manipulated, in the osteopathic sense of the term, to help back and hip find happiness again. But, man, it hurt so much. I've never hurt like that in an osteopath's office, ever, and I've seen my fair share. The worst, or best, was that he wasn't not doing a good job, he was doing a great job. Anyway, at the end of the appointment, I, dripping in sweat (and not for sexy reasons) asked what the deal was. Why had it hurt so much and what had I done to whack things so far out?
I could not translate, or even understand, the explanation. I can only give you the last sentence, the easiest to understand and the only one I could retain.
"You may be right-handed physically, but emotionally you're definitely left-handed."
I considered asking for further explanation, but I'd suffered enough for one morning. AND, I realized (take that, Charlie) that I had my new joker . When the going gets tough, I can always plead innocence on the basis of what must be a serious contradiction for poor me. Right-handed in my head and left-handed in my heart.