Click, Crack, Creak:
My Knees Have Entered Their Diva Era
There was a time—not long ago—when I could stand up without my joints sounding like I was opening a haunted treasure chest.
Now? My knees announce themselves before I do.
They don’t bend, they negotiate.
They don’t support me, they tolerate me.
And apparently, they've unionized and are demanding better working conditions.
This, …