My grandma is trying to hook me up.
To be painfully specific my seventy-five-year-old grandmother thinks a little hanky-panky would cheer me up. Direct quote. Since I?m currently living with her I can?t escape the endless line of grandchildren of friends who keep ?dropping by? for dinner. Literally I can?t escape. I can barely manage the trek to the dining room at this point.
While Grandma?s determined to find me a husband I?m determined to learn how to walk again so I can walk away from her matchmaking skills. Spoiler alert: She has no matchmaking skills.?
But then I get a brilliant idea. I can fake date my physical therapist. Only he wants a real date. Gulp. A real date with me? Is he for real? I?m no longer the stylish girl with the glamorous job. Now I?m a woman with a shattered leg and a scarred face.
If I?m going to learn to live with my new reality and give love a chance my attitude needs to do an about-face. Easier said than done.???
