At present, there’s a bruise on the inside of my thigh which has transitioned from purple-black to a streaky, mottled violet-fuscia-and-sickly-yellow combination.
Colorful! Like a sunset… only not pretty.
So, how did I get a bruise on my inner thigh?
I have no. freaking. idea.
This is not like the miscellany little bruises on my outer legs, or even arms… the ones that I don’t remember getting but rarely fret over because (a) they’re small and (b) I realize that there’s plenty of times I bump into things randomly, or give myself a whack and recognize at the time that that will probably leave a bruise, the exact source of which I will only vaguely remember later when said bruise appears.
But my inner thigh? I sort of think I’d recall if I’d whacked myself there.
Curiouser and curiouser.
I had no idea why my finger suddenly (and mercifully briefly) could not bear any pressure on it without pain, and I do not presently know why my right wrist is having a similar issue now.
But hey! … Ouchie!
Anyway, I may not know why I’m faintly broken today, but I am awfully thankful for the wonder of aspirin.
