Now I know someone’s got a bobble-headed voodoo doll of me stashed in their closet somewhere, and somehow their dog got at it and started using it as a chew toy. Not only was this the week of My Major Sleep Deficit; this was also the week of Bumper Cars With April.

It started with a bite to my lip and a grouchily muttered expletive. According to Filipino superstition, if you bite your lip someone’s talking very badly about you. So, I don’t know, maybe people were saying that I throw like a girl or that my mother wears sensible shoes. Anyway, I bit my lip with my vampire-like incisors, and my snake venom turned the bite into a canker sore that refused to let me eat in peace for a week.

Then, there was that incident with the funny bone—not to be confused with the incident of the funny boner where I hope H.E. has sufficiently learned never to cook in the altogether again. No, this is where I banged my left elbow on the railing and immediately lost all feeling in my left side. I must have stood on the steps for five full minutes, completely dazed, left side totally numb, and a whimper crawling up from within my throat and between my canker-sore-blemished lips.

Not to be outdone, my right elbow and my desk made arrangements to meet in all violent haste the next day, and my entire right side fell promptly asleep, as it could not feel a thing. Then I turned in my chair to report to the disinterested occupants of the room that, holy feck, I’d banged my funny bone and it felt like an iron hammer hitting a pole, what with my bones vibrating like a tuning fork, and I turned back to my desk and banged my right elbow in the same spot, the same place, AGAIN.

Argh!

And as though I’d criticized my body for being so foolish and unoriginal with the three funny bone incidents, I was treated to an entirely different sort of pain the next day; I cut my pinky finger on a metal tray. And the next, a right heel itch that wouldn’t go away.

Then, of course, more funny bone incidents came up yesterday and today—more painful now because a beautiful tender bruise has been added to my elbow to accentuate the shocking numbness that comes with each meeting of bone and some other hard fecking object.

So whoever has that bobble-headed voodoo doll of me, please, please, PLEASE extricate the poor thing from those canine jaws. I am not a plaything, and I am not to be eaten this way.

And I say this with all the seriousness of a harp attack.

Dear harp, don’t hurt me.

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