Shocking Truths Revealed - Or At Least Something Revealed
I have, up until now, considered myself to be a pretty well put together girl. I was at least intelligent enough to get myself through college (although perhaps not so intelligent as to decide a private education was worth paying for- for years); I am attractive enough that I was once married, although since he has since decided men are this thing, perhaps we ought not really consider that any sort of proof; I have thus far, successfully raised a healthy, smart, witty child (give him time, he'll abandon his upbringing yet); I have secured for myself a good job and a home of my own; and I have been able to keep 3 pets and 50 household plants alive for years (give or take a few - plants, that is, not pets!) All in all, I'd say the report on Amy is a pretty good one.
Until today.
I had no idea I was so flawed until today when I finally came to terms with it all. I have been in denial. I have been casting blame elsewhere when in fact it is all me. I AM TO BLAME!!
It's true. Shocking, I know, but true. Perhaps I should have told you to sit down before you read this. Are you sitting? Good, then.
You see, I had thought all along that it was my choice in fashions that was to blame. That for the life of me, I simply was incapable of picking out the right shirt. But tested over time I realize it's not the shirts that are to blame. No! No! So then, I carefully deducted it was actually my undergarment - my bra, to be exact, that was to blame. Yes! Surely this was the answer! But, alas, again no, with experiments of all kinds, with years of testing and reporting, it is neither my shirt nor my brassiere that is to blame.
I have a faulty left shoulder.
Sigh.
There, I've said it. I've said it aloud and I've typed it down for all to see and acknowledge. Hi. My name is Amy. I have a faulty left shoulder.
By all appearances, it looks as good as my right. Not to say it would stand out in a crowd or be showcased in a centerfold for Most Spectacular Shoulder of the Year, but nonetheless, it does not immediately strike you as faulty. It's functional, certainly. It has a full range of motion. It fits into shirt-sleeves just fine. The problem, the fault, the horrific irregularity is that I cannot under any circumstances, with any shirt or any bra, I cannot keep my bra strap on my left shoulder! I am forever reaching into my shirt to pull my strap back onto my shoulder. In my estimation, I probably do this over 10 times a day. How many times do I have to adjust the right strap? NEVER!! Never, not once, not in a blue moon, not in a red sea. I never have to adjust my right strap. Only the left one.
I have tightened the strap. I have tried different bras. I have worn different shirts. I have held my left arm up over my head for the duration of the day (okay, not that last one) but to no avail!!
T'is true, people. I am faulty. I expect I shall be asked for a refund or at the very least a reduction in resale value.
I hope that people will not hold this against me as I go forth in life.
I wonder, however, can I at least get a handicap sticker for my car?
Until today.
I had no idea I was so flawed until today when I finally came to terms with it all. I have been in denial. I have been casting blame elsewhere when in fact it is all me. I AM TO BLAME!!
It's true. Shocking, I know, but true. Perhaps I should have told you to sit down before you read this. Are you sitting? Good, then.
You see, I had thought all along that it was my choice in fashions that was to blame. That for the life of me, I simply was incapable of picking out the right shirt. But tested over time I realize it's not the shirts that are to blame. No! No! So then, I carefully deducted it was actually my undergarment - my bra, to be exact, that was to blame. Yes! Surely this was the answer! But, alas, again no, with experiments of all kinds, with years of testing and reporting, it is neither my shirt nor my brassiere that is to blame.
I have a faulty left shoulder.
Sigh.
There, I've said it. I've said it aloud and I've typed it down for all to see and acknowledge. Hi. My name is Amy. I have a faulty left shoulder.
By all appearances, it looks as good as my right. Not to say it would stand out in a crowd or be showcased in a centerfold for Most Spectacular Shoulder of the Year, but nonetheless, it does not immediately strike you as faulty. It's functional, certainly. It has a full range of motion. It fits into shirt-sleeves just fine. The problem, the fault, the horrific irregularity is that I cannot under any circumstances, with any shirt or any bra, I cannot keep my bra strap on my left shoulder! I am forever reaching into my shirt to pull my strap back onto my shoulder. In my estimation, I probably do this over 10 times a day. How many times do I have to adjust the right strap? NEVER!! Never, not once, not in a blue moon, not in a red sea. I never have to adjust my right strap. Only the left one.
I have tightened the strap. I have tried different bras. I have worn different shirts. I have held my left arm up over my head for the duration of the day (okay, not that last one) but to no avail!!
T'is true, people. I am faulty. I expect I shall be asked for a refund or at the very least a reduction in resale value.
I hope that people will not hold this against me as I go forth in life.
I wonder, however, can I at least get a handicap sticker for my car?
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