In lieu of still being hurt and having nothing to say about basketball, here’s the story of how I finally got my own car:
First, a little background. When I originally signed my contract I was under the impression that I would have my own car and my own apartment. Apparently when a contract says “will make available an apartment and a car” it does not mean you will get your own apartment and your own car. To the upper management, making available meant giving me an apartment and car to share, which is not the end of the world, but I have previously written plenty on why my specific roommate could potentially make this a living hell, which of course he did. Continue reading “The Time I Stole A Car”
Still hurt, which sucks. Yesterday the assistant trainer told me that he thought I might be out for longer than he originally thought. He compared my injury to Troy Polamalu’s, and he’s supposed to be out 3-6 weeks.
It’s interesting how the pro football player got X-Rays and MRI’s, and he has a nice, semi-defined return date. I on the other hand got a glance and a simple “don’t worry, this happens to soccer players all the time. 10 days to 6 weeks.” Uhh, thanks?
So I go to the trainer today. And by go to the trainer I mean drive 10 miles, realize I don’t have coins for parking, get there too early, sit in my car sweating because I don’t want to turn the air on because I am so low on gas, ask a passing meter checker lady if she can make change and get denied, and finally heading inside after I borrow money from the trainer. Continue reading “Griping and Rambling”