The Teenage Book

I'm Sorry, I Feel Like Venting.

I recently got a little rubber ball thing (recently meaning 20 minutes ago) from my Grandma, in attempts to give my crooked/unbendable finger some exercise and maybe try to get it some flexibility. Even though if I ever get to the point where I can bend it, I don't know what I'll do, I'll need to change my writing style, my softball throwing and pitching style, gosh, even the way I hold a spoon!

But that's really stupid. I shouldn't be complaining. People have things way worse.

I have a friend with a crooked leg (we call ourselves the cripple buddies :P we have a strange sense of humor) and she can't really run. Gym is a freaking nightmare for her.

And here I am. Complaining about a finger.

But I kinda want to make it normal. We're lucky it's on my right hand and not my left, then it would be my ring finger, I wouldn't be able to get a ring on it (in less than 10 minutes, at least)

Anyways, this rubber ball is supposed to help me

And holy crap it huuuurts

I haven't done any physical therapy at all since my surgery- I know, I'm terrible I never do the exercises they said I should do. Just because they hurt.

Agh I need to grow up -_-

My hands hurts so much. Stupid rubber ball thingy.

Okay I'm done being stupid and wallowing in self pity

I just had to vent a bit there

Cyan out