It isn’t a good soccer game if you don’t leave with some bruises.
I think I’ve said that before, but it still applies. Last night I finally made it back to the soccer field after a two month absense due to the ending of the winter season, a couple Sunday conflicts, and lots of weekend rain. It was fun, primarily because we — gasp! — won by a score of 2-0. We actually shut a team out! Of course, they are the newest team in the league and thus the least experienced, but still. We won. Woohoo!
I have a lovely bruised and swollen knuckle on my right hand though. At one point I took a shot to the chest from about eight feet away. I must’ve had time to make some sort of attempt to shield myself, because when the ball hit, it hit the back of my hand, which was in front of my chest. Last night when I got in the shower, my chest was all red, and that’s when I noticed the lovely purple color of my finger. Ah yes. Bruises.
It was a good weekend, though, as always, too short. Saw Troy on Friday night, went geocaching, had dinner at Mely’s, and over to Paul’s for the casino party on Saturday. Went to the driving range, geocaching, and soccer yesterday before ending the weekend with an e-conversation that made me think of a few things I hadn’t thought of before. I know I have options in what I do with my life, but the thought of following up on any of the ones that don’t involve the space program is scary.
