It started with a click. Or what I thought was a click. A year and a half later, when I finally sought medical intervention, I was informed by the physical therapist it was snapping. Whatever the name, my hip is getting worse, with louder and more frequent noise that would cause me to take the car into the mechanic/snapping from the hip when at the the pilates studio, or working with my trainer, or sometimes just standing up from the sofa. And the hip has started to hurt, and I've got that slight limp that comes and goes according to some unknown social schedule of its own.
The physical therapist recommended I go see a hip specialist and get an MRI, just to make sure. That I don't have some hidden flaw that will eventually make my leg fall off. Okay, she didn't suggest that, but when the pain from the offending joint is keeping you awake in the middle of the night, your brain sometimes fills in the blanks with disturbing imagery.
After a month's wait I get to go see the hip doctor, and I'm nervous (because, yes I'm pretty sure my leg won't actually fall off, but the thought does nag that surgery could be a solution to my problems) but also anticipating getting some answers. But I don't really get any answers, just more waiting, as the MRI can't happen until insurance approves it, and I have no idea how long that will take, other than the obvious too long.
I drive out of the clinic parking lot, and because I was hoping to be full of answers, and now just feel empty. I think random thoughts, mostly food related. See's is near here, I could get a chocolate butter cream. Or two or six. Or, ooh, I think the bakery at the mall has eclairs. But then I realize I'm not really hungry, and pretend to be an emotionally healthy adult and keep driving. Only I still feel the gnawing need, even as the mall gets smaller in my rear view mirror. And I realize that, yes I am driving home, but that I am also driving right past the cupcake shop, and wouldn't a chocolate cupcake with sweet chocolate icing be really good? Or, oh, the lemon cupcake with actual lemon curd inside, and lemon icing on top!
As all my resolve has been used up avoiding chocolates and eclairs, I pull into the parking lot. Only to realize that if I just drive around the corner, my local ink dealer is right there, filled with hundreds of books that I haven't read, and that this will be much more filling than any sugary stress eating could ever be.
So, ink addict that I am, I am sucked inside, and make it all of eight feet before I see a book with Being Written scrawled across the cover in faux pencil(and at this point I will admit that when a young girl I thought that both faux and sans were both colors... you know, like sans stockings must be a color of beige, and faux pencil was some unknown color, but probably found in the expanded crayon box). And a giant pencil being carried away on the back of a not so giant man. While an avowed ink lover, I also have a great fondness for graphite, so that was enough to get the book into my hand.
The cover also promised "a white-knuckle thrill ride" and insights, interviews & more. Neither of which I noticed until just now, so clearly they didn't influence my book reading (or buying) decision. (Something I thought I'd mention in the almost impossible chance that Milan Bozie, cover designer, ever happens to read this blog post... you know, information for the next book design...)
The back cover text ("Daniel Fischer has a secret. He knows he's a character in a book that's being written.") made me think this was the book the 2006 Will Farrell movie "Stranger than Fiction" was based on, but that appears not to be the case. But I didn't know that at the time, and since I'm waiting for "Stranger" to come up on my NetFlix cue, and I like to read the book before the so often butchered adaptation, that misperception was the last bit of motivation I need to buy then read the book.
Like I needed much encouragement to buy a book that day. In addition to the general if I had this little self control about any other area of shopping, I'd have to join an -oholic support group to control my spending I was having general emotional angst need to fill it with something problems that day.
And, because not all emotional needs can be met with paper and ink, right after the economic exchange others would call buying a book but I call meeting a primal need, I went a bought a cupcake. Lemon. It was very good, thank you.
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