Reasons not to raft

The thing about being Adventurous and Outdoorsy, Zonk, is that you can’t be It twice a year and get away with it. I went river rafting yesterday, for instance. And I had an amazing time falling off the raft and being thrown off the raft and being heaved back onto the raft and paddling like a pro while pretending to be Captain of the boat  and everything.

But that was yesterday.

Today, I’m partially paralyzed (for all practical purposes.) My neck is sprained. My legs are sprained. My back is sprained on both sides of my spine. My front is sprained, too, oddly enough, and I wouldn’t even have known it except that it hurts if I try to laugh. My armpits are sore from being hauled into the raft by the scruff of a lifejacket and my legs are sore from just Being. Which is why I’m lying down with my laptop on my stomach and typing this post up. I’m also red as a lobster from the sunburn.

PS: Battered body not withstanding, rafting is Awesome.

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Author: Kirtana K

I paint and make music and blog like a maniac. These days I try to run. But I have chicken legs and lungs the size of two-rupee balloons. I fail. I like pajamas and striped socks and books that read like song and songs that sound like poetry and strangers who read this page. And Maggi when I'm sick or cold or sad or celebrating. They'll find noodles in my veins if ever they cut me open. And potatoes. And maybe a tiny bit of whiskey. I'll be an Unidentified Living Object and they'll put my insides on display. It will be crazy. It will be awesome. It will.

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