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Being on crutches seems to make everyone automatically extra-nice. Complete strangers keep asking if I need help. It's... a little bit weird, really.
Regardless, standing in line at the cafeteria was agonizing. My good leg was complaining about being overworked before I got in there, and so were my wrists. I'd like to go home and cancel
* "How are we going to communicate?" she asked, in her thick Hindi accent. "The evidence says 'badly'," I replied.