WHY OH WHY did my parents name me Grace? They were basically cursing me to a life of—well of stories like this:
Yesterday I was under my desk (I just moved to a new cube and I have an absurdly high desk, I have to sit up on a big tall chair that makes me feel like a two-year-old) so I was under the desk moving something and I stood up. Those of you with a basic grasp of physics will understand why standing up under a desk is a bad idea, namely, I cracked the back of my head against the desk.
I spent the rest of yesterday trying not to throw up, slightly dizzy and confused, with a splitting headache. Not as bad as my last (rugby-related) concussion, but still obviously a mild concussion.
What the hell.
Grace, get with the program and stop randomly injuring yourself.
So. Concussion #2. People think I should go to the doctor, but, like, what would they do? From what I understand they can’t really fix me… unless there’s a “be-less-clumsy” pill.