come again?

so i'm on the phone to my orthopaedist today. it's sad that at the tender age of 25, i have an orthopaedist already. i was trying to make a short-notice appointment because at lunchtime, in front of my brand new big boss, i twisted my knee to the point where it cracked 3 distinct times loudly enough to be heard over the cafeteria din. and i did that, yes folks, while sitting down. i did the "walk it off, no i'm not about to cry or puke" grimace for about 5 minutes and spent the rest of the afternoon doing paperwork with a biohazard bag full of ice on my leg like a huge pussy.

[side note: for those of you who have asked, my friday interview went well, i hope i get in, but i won't know for a little bit and if anything keeps me out, it will be my mediocre GRE scores]. anyway so i called my doctor and was put on hold anytime i ended a sentence with a question. i kept initialing and dating away on my assay paperwork, productive worker that i am. my subconscious language monitor cuts through the hold music and locks onto a phrase playing in my ear through the receiver, just in time for me to hear it without context: "...our colossal colon, which is now 40 feet long and 6 feet wide, large enough for kids to walk through, back by popular demand!"

riiight. i may have a busted knee, but i guess it could be worse. at least i don't have to worry about my bodacious bile duct, my dude-acious duodenum, or my radical rectum. how about that.