Afternoon everyone!  As most of you know, I work at Starbucks when not writing the latest medieval romance, young adult paranormal - or just plain ol' paranormal, lol.  A few days ago I was working behind the bar, making drinks, when the coffee timer went off.

We brew our coffee every 8 minutes, and I swear I hear this timer bleep, bleep, bleep in my sleep.  So the timer goes off, and I lean to the right, thinking to shut the thing up - I'm committed to the right leg lean when I realize my shot is finished pouring.  The Starbucks Powers That Be have decided a shot is only good when poured into the customer's cup immediately (although it can stay in the cup for hours, but whatever) so I pivot backward, forcing my wieght in the opposite direction - hearing a 'bing' at the same time I get an eletric snap from the ball of my right foot.

Good barista that I am , I ignore it and finish the rush.

I'm on deadline.  I go home, I sit in front of the computer for ten hours.  before I go to bed, I realize my foot itches - it looks like a bug bite. The next morning my foot is still store, but I'm a big girl, and I deal with it.  Probably a bruise.  I'm on deadline.  I write.  Last night before bed, my foot is red, and the entire bottom of my foot hurts.  Annoyed, I wake up knowing that I will be spending my day in the doc's office instead of editing and polishing.  My foot aches, it's throbbing, and I'm worried now that I actually may have broken the damn thing.  Who has time for this???  To top it all off, I am in total need of a pedicure.

Greg drives me.  I think he wants to see if I've been infested with brown recluse eggs.  We get to the doc, who informs me that "I have good feet - wide - but not bad" before taking a bunch of xrays.  At this point, Greg and I are cracking jokes about foot aliens - what a sneaky place to incubate the young, yeah?  Well, the xrays come back and I don't have a broken bone caused by a bulging tumor (thank you, thank you - didn't even realize that was in the running) and what I've got is a pissed off inflamation of something.  I am leaning back, thanking the broken bone gods, when the doc starts in on his litany of things I can't do.  No walking on the beach, no going barefoot, no cheap shoes - in fact, I am supposed to wear running shoes. Four treatments of physical therapy, and then we'll check back to see how it is. 

THEN his assistant Olga brings out the ultrasound paddle and gel to rub the bottom of my foot, and Greg perks back up.  Maybe he'll get to see an alien after all?  He plays the 'what if' game very well, and it turns out that the doc was no slouch either.  Our foot aliens led to all sorts of scenarios for scary monsters and the end of the world.  Foot Aliens, zombie, ghosts, vampires - what's your favorite monster or end of the world theory?

bwahahahahahahahaha

Traci