Let's Get Physical...Therapy.

Inasmuch as I am, deep down, a 90 year old woman, I needed to see a physical therapist about my knee caps. My knees, which are genetically prone to sub-par cartilage function, have been in bad shape since thanksgiving (when I got so happy about being able to run at sea-level that I forgot about being sick and weak and hurt myself playing football with 22 year old guys).

Should you ever need to feel young and thin, go to physical therapy! (Or, if you are neither of those things, go and be with your peeps) I wanted to point out to one lady that it might be more beneficial to her hip socket if she picked up a carrot instead of a weight, but I didn’t.

I had my own problems.

Namely, pulling up my pant legs to access my knee caps revealed my complete lack of attention to the shaving process. I had apparently thought to rid myself of unwanted leg hairs by closing my eyes and waving the razor, wand-like, in their general direction.

The moral of this story is clear: It is far better to not shave your legs than to shave them poorly. One looks like you are too lazy to shave, the other looks like you have mange.