I hurt my butt.

I did. I hurt my ass. Specifically, I hurt my left assular area and, sadly depressingly to my dismay, I did NOT do it in any sort of fun kinky way.
I slipped and fell pretty hard a couple of weeks ago which apparently enraged a teeny tiny (I know!? A teeny tiny anything in my butt?! I was also excited.) muscle known as the pyriformis. Lil’ Pyri (as I call it) became lonely in his (don’t know why, but Lil’ Pyri feels like a dude) outrage of me slipping in water and landing on him, that he roped my sciatic nerve in to rock out at an ongoing pain party. I attempted to follow the “ignore it and it will go away” plan for the first week which was incredibly successful at being unsuccessful. I’m now actively trying to make it better and it seems to be helping.

Or it was helping until tonight when I was lying here feeling a knot of sharp pain and thinking about how much worse it had gotten.
I complained. I whined. I bitched. Nothing about me bitching, whining, or complaining was helping to relieve the stabbing agony. At the pinnacle of deep pointy pain, I rolled over hoping to find relief and to my wonder, the pain moved.
My first super smart thought was, “huh, that’s odd”. Then I dug around where the pain had moved to and I found this:

No, this is not a kinky sex toy; this is the magnetic vent clip that I leave attached to my phone as a stand. I left the diet coke can in the frame for size reference.

That’s right people, was lying on the point of a phone stand.

Sometimes, my aptitude for ineptitude surprises and impresses even me.

Love,

H.

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