Our cat, whom I feed immediately upon getting out of bed in the mornings at 4:45 am, bit my ankle this morning when I didn’t get up. Hard enough to break the skin. He scared himself off the bed when I responded with an affronted “Ow!” and jerked my leg away as if surprised that I would react thus. Shortly thereafter, he began a barrage of meowing that I dutifully ignored and let Mym handle, since he was getting up anyway. I mean, really.

In a selfless act of daring, I sprained my neck rescuing a wooly mammoth from a cave-in on the hill near my home on Monday night. No? Would you believe a lame horse? A small child? Two men in a rowboat? Okay, okay. I sprained it at dance practice while getting up off the floor. You know that position where you start out on your knees, then bend all the way back so your back is as flat as you can get it on the floor? Well, that’s where I was. Unfortunately, my neck wasn’t loose enough for me to get out of it correctly and I hurt myself.

One of my classmates had an herbal version of Icy-Hot, but it didn’t help. Nor did the hot shower or the ice pack, or the prescription muscle relaxants I took the next morning or the hot herb bag. Most of yesterday was spent sleeping, since I was so doped up from the generic Flexeril, so it wasn’t a total loss. It wasn’t until later that evening when I remembered that I still had some Bio-Freeze samples leftover from the accident in February and finally got some relief. Bio-Freeze is the best! I was still really stiff this morning, but could tell it was a little better than yesterday. So, I slapped on some more Bio-Freeze and went to sit at my non-OSHA compliant desk at work. They’re still working on a solution for me. In the meantime, I’m taking it really easy.

Anyone who says they have a perfect relationship with another human being is either in denial or a liar. Like all things worthwhile, you work at it. You try to figure out what “perfect” means to you and you strive for that. If you’re diligent, you can attain moments of perfection, but it never sticks. It wasn’t designed to.

Some of my closest friends are very outwardly passionate people. I have moments of that but, on the whole, am more of an even keel sort of person. I do not easily give over to wild abandon. Blame it on whatever childhood neurosis you please, but I am generally satisfied with having chosen to avoid the emotional soap opera. These friends find this tragic. Even more so, they fear for my choice in a mate because I talk to them more often about all the doubts and fears I have in striving for my perfection than I do about the successes. Mym is even more outwardly reserved than I am and they are convinced that I have settled for a mediocre life.

I do believe that they only want my happiness. So, why is it that I always show them my sad face? Why can’t I ever remember all the good stuff then? Is it some secret desire for drama? A twisted way to get attention? Why is the situation always so dire when I am talking to them and otherwise not? Am I really so easily influenced? Are these the people who really know me best and are only trying to save me from a horrible mistake, or have I colored their perception beyond repair?

We are not perfect. I wish he was more prone to romantic displays. He wishes I would take more of an interest in his work. We both need to work on our communication skills. We’re slow learners, but we do the best we can. We believe what we have is worth keeping, even if it’s hard sometimes.