The Perks of Being a Handicap.

So I realize that I've been on blogging hiatus for the past week or so, but as blogging 101 will tell you - if you don't have anything to blog about, then don't blog anything at all. Who knew this ancient adage would reincarnate into modern times of technology?

Aside from not wanting to bore my enormous readership with the daily grind of my life, I've also managed to break my wrist, which makes typing much harder than you might imagine. I've never broken a bone before, so I'm totally milking this for all it's worth. It's pretty much become my staple excuse for anything that I want to avoid doing.
Can't get on the treadmill today - broke my wrist
Can't come pick you up at the airport - broke my wrist
Can't go to work - broke my wrist
Can't pay my bar tab - broke my wrist
I mean, it's such a multi-faceted and well-rounded defense for anything - I'm absolutely loving it.
It also works to the contrary (and for anything else that may arise):
I have to go buy new clothes - because I have a broken wrist
I slept until noon - because I have a broken wrist
I've been drinking everyday - because I have a broken wrist
I'm late - because I have a broken wrist

Having a cast has also brought another interesting observation into my peripheral. And that's how absolutely unoriginal men are. I've gotten more pick up lines thrown at me with a cast on than I do in a mini skirt with my ta-ta's hanging out. It's like they can't think of anything better to say so they break the ice with, "you have a cast on your arm."
Really? You think I didn't realize I have a cast on my arm? Thank you, thank you so much for that observant piece of information.
And if they aren't helping me out by finally bringing to my attention that my arm is stationary for the next 4 weeks, they are asking me how I happened to be in a cast. This route is slightly more original, but nonetheless, a cerebral person could probably come to the conclusion that this is a question I now hear on average 10 times a day. An original guy (if there is such a thing) would spark a conversation with me that had absolutely nothing to do with the obvious - i.e. that I have a cast. This would actually intrigue me slightly.
I really want to start saying that I got in a fight and I just have a crazy left hook, but I just can't bring myself to say this with a straight face, knowing that in reality I slipped bowling in an alcohol induced competitive rage.

All in all, my experience thus far as a gimp in society has been positive, interesting and even a little bit enlightening. Who could argue with a week vacation from work, excusable utter laziness and some totally unnecessary sympathy? Yea, it's fun every once and awhile, admit it.