I have a theory that when I was a little kid–possibly even before I was born–a giant bonked me on the head with the bottom of his fist. It’s the only explanation I can come up with. My head is a gigantic enormousity. My feet are too wide for the widest shoes Nike can make. My broad shoulders make sitting next to someone in a movie theater or ball game extremely uncomfortable. Even my tonsils have been diagnosis as “unusually large” by doctors. I’ve got a six-foot-five body stuck in a five-foot-six frame. Everything it too wide. Even something as simple as buying batting gloves proves to be difficult (the sizer says my fingers are as long as a tee baller but because my wrist is wider than a sumo wrestler’s, they always rip at the seams). It’s discouraging ’cause nothing on my body fits my body. Even my wide ass doesn’t fit for someone this short–or white.
I know I don’t entirely take care of myself. I’m getting better. Now I take Tylenol when I get a headache and Tums for indigestion. But I used to just ‘tough’ out uncomfortable situations. As I get older, I’m doing a better . . . . .