Last week, every morning was a new revelation. I woke to head into the bathroom – where the lights are brightest – to review the status of my arm.
And, each morning, additional bruising appeared.
Now, I have no idea where these bruises came from. And I am used to that.
But these are not the usual arms-resting-on-the-edge-of the-counter in the lab or edge-of-the-computer-keyboard variety. Nor are all of these appearing at that treacherous desk height or counter height. They’re not even the I-crashed-into-the-door-frame upper arm bruises.
To have so many appear in such an odd cluster is a little more out of the ordinary and, with this pattern, I am left wondering about alien abductions – and these aliens really aren’t all that good at starting intravenous drips.
Or it leaves me speculating about the habits of Mr. Q during the night and just how pointy his elbows are.
The cat also received a little extra scrutiny, but that ended when it was readily apparent that there were no scratches involved.
And, as quietly as they arrived over the one week, they disappeared over the following week.
I’ll let you know if I start picking up radio signals or sending them back to the mothership…