awhile ago was the first day of my therapy. nothing quite peculiar happened. the therapist assigned to me, ate shy, talks like ms. aureada... hehe. she first stuck 2 gel smeared pads (or whatever you call them) on the sides of my right knee and kind of electrecuted me for 20 minutes, it wasn't that bad you know, in a way it tickles. how do you call that, shock therapy? i just sat there still, and mehn i wasn't shaking like someone who's being killed by an electric chair.

then she asked me to do this exercise wherein i should lean on the wall, then squat for 7 secs., lean again... blah... with a pillow stuck between my legs.
and theeen, she ultra-sound(ed) me.
and lastly, she asked me to cycle with the stationary bike for 15 minutes where i burned only 25 calories. is that a lot already? i don't think so...

oh yeah, there's a therapist there who reminds me of shane. what a freakin day. and before you react, here's how i felt: mehn, i wasn't at all pleased to be reminded of her! i was like, "i'm working hard this summer to correct the hormone imbalance i got from staying four years in holy. meeehhhn, COLLEGE is the only cure."

yuck me.

there ends my first day. i commuted on my way home and bought a 15 peso (!!!) white thread (like you care) so that my sister can sew my pants for me. i suck in sewing.

EK with barkada on monday! yaaayyy!

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