I'm too embarassed to talk to Margo, so I buy a bunch of flowers and leave them in her office with a little note: SO SORRY FOR SNEEZING ON YOU.
Shit like that only happens to me. Even when I was a kid I was cursed by episodes of ego crippling humiliation. Ask my brother Colin, he'll gladly regale you with embarassing stories of my childhood and adolescence. Vomiting on my homecoming date? Check. Losing bladder control during an intense game of dodge ball? Check. Having your brother dump out all your Dungeons & Dragons books out of your backpack in front of Sherri Williams, the hottest girl in junior high, while he screams, "Oh my God! Colin plays D&D! Colin plays D&D!" Yeah, check. The joke's on him, though, because two years later Sherri Williams couldn't keep her hands off me. Ha!
To put things in perspective, it's not as bad as the time when I had the, um, accident in my armor. (see post Drinking + patrol = disaster, 10/9/04)
But enough dwelling on life's slings and arrows; tonight I go on patrol for the first time in over a week. We'll see if my shoulder is up to the challenge.
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