Shot to the Ass, and You’re to Blame…

Bon Jovi is a great band. But my allergists’ nurse is even better. After my first appointment yesterday with the allergist after weeks of allergy-type symptoms, I was told to pull down my pants “just a tad” so the nurse could give me a shot in my “muscle.” (No, not that one.)

She rubbed something warm on my hip, then said, “Did you feel that?”

Surprised, I said that I hadn’t.

“Just wait till you walk out of the office. You’ll wonder what it was that I actually did to you.”

(Words of comfort, obviously.)

If you’ve ever seen that scene in the movie Skin Deep where John Ritter just finished electro-shock therapy and he’s walking down the parking lot stairwell and every so often he has this mini-seizure, usually near other people where he ends up knocking all their papers and packages onto the floor then writhing around like a fool — well, it wasn’t that bad.

But let’s just say, walking through the crosswalk was a challenge.

This weekend has on tap, very little. I’m gearing up for a big writing week next week – writing a spec for Joan of Arcadia and finishing a treatment for a new real-life Raiders of the Lost Ark type movie. That is my goal. And now that I’ve put it in writing, I hope that forces me to stick to it.

Happy Day, Folks.

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