Floof Is Cancer

Why Batting Material Is Pure Unadulterated Evil Disguised As Cotton Fluff And There's Absolutely Nothing You Can Do About It But Leak From Your Face Holes

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It’s story time. So, pull up a ball of floof and I will tell you my tale….

What’s floof?

You’re so lucky not to know.

But don’t worry, pumpkin. I’m about to tell you all about it….

I was exhausted and contorted on the couch trying to get comfortable while simultaneously in tears from having exacerbated a knee injury that’s been healing since January.

Back in January, I was packing up my ex-husband’s belongings for the movers to arrive and bring him his things at his new location when I slid on a folded cardboard box across a bamboo floor with some mass produced giant canvas of Einstein that my ex-mother-in-law had bought for him in my hands and I landed hard with my leg bent underneath me.

I thought for sure I had broken my leg.

I was alone and nowhere near a phone.

I had to scoot myself on my arms to where I could get to the rug.

And then the couch.

And eventually my phone.

The systemic swelling spurred on by the acute swelling was insane for months. I was pretty much living inside of a lymphatic drainage suit. I probably looked like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.

Actual footage. Soooo not cute.

Bee_ing

sent me supplies to take care of me while I was laid up¹ and Amelia Zarden came by often to check on me.

The injury was the last thing I needed² while performing the daring feat of not one but TWO massive moves³ during the potential sale of a condo, but somehow, despite my entire life imploding all around me, I pressed on while literally hopping on one leg and I made it work⁴ with a little help from my friends.

It turns out it’s a rather bad bone bruise that is healing quite well. But it’s taking its sweet ass time.

It’s been six months and I still can’t leave it bent in the same position for too long or it starts barking at me like a rabid jackal on meth.

Don’t mess with my knee. It’s outside trying to vacuum the lawn.

I was fighting back my fear of going to the gym and somehow screwing it up worse, so the four miles of walking I did yesterday had been a massive victory for me in overcoming that fear; however, the fear returned with the thought of what may have been, in retrospect, a very stupid setback.

After all that.

Coupled with a surplus of tears.

And you know how much I hate it when my face leaks.

So, I was beating myself up over it internally and I just wanted to go to sleep… but my dumbass decided today was also a good day for us to wash all of the linens in the whole house.

I’m seriously batting 1000.

It was 10PM and I went down the basement to check on the laundry because I just wanted to fix up the bed and go to sleep.…

NOPE.…

I open the washing machine….