My Little Fred

Right now, I think having that happen to my arm might be less painful than the damn nerve injury I'm putting up with... or at least I hope it's just a nerve injury. It feels like something is festering in the recesses of my arm, waiting for just the right moment to explode out of it and eat the remainder of my body as it's first meal. I will call it Fred, the distant cousin of those cute little Gieger designed aliens from those Sigourney Weaver movies that popped out of people's stomachs. Fred differs in that he's purple, likes candy, speaks French, and grows in your arm.

Assuming I can convince Fred not to eat my body, which could be hard since I don't know French, I'll keep him as my pet. I'll give him a good will offering of the remainder of my left arm, after he's exploded out of it. Really, I don't think I'd be able to salvage it, and I'd rather not have the dogs eating it, so Fred should at least get a good meal out of it.

Only having one arm, it'll be pretty hard for me to continue my job as a technical writer since typing requires two hands. But wait... I might have lost an arm, but I gained a little alien friend! If I could train him to use the keyboard, he could be my very own dictation pet! I could talk and he'd run around on the keyboard typing what I say. With my remaining hand, I could run the mouse and it'd be like I had three arms instead of two! I would be the most productive worker in the office, which would lead to me getting my own office and a huge raise (which I would have eventually taken anyhow after I had Fred eat a few of my coworkers).

With my new high-paying job, I could hammer out a few years of work, save up a ton of money, and retire early. Then I could travel the world and enjoy the rest of my life without having to work. It would be wonderful, and it all came from a little bit of pain. I'd say it would be worth it.

......eerrrrggg...... come on........ GRUNT...... aaarrrgggghhh..... just pop out Fred! Come on, stop hiding in there....... come. out. NOW!