Monthly Archives: June 2014

Dear Diary, So, This Is What A Concussion Feels Like

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Yesterday I decided that I could no longer live with the bathroom looking like something that was inside a crackhouse. I had been planning for months, ok, years, to fix it up. It needed a through cleaning, paint, and a good talking to. My head is really starting to hurt so I am going to summarize.

Painted all day yesterday. The walls and the floor. Since I am not a painter by trade, it went like this : Paint the walls, get some on the floor, paint the floor, get some on the wall, paint the wall,  get some on the floor, paint the floor, gets some on the wall….you get the idea. I made the kids use the neighbor’s toilet because I was pretty sure they would somehow track paint onto the carpeting in the hallway…oh, no, that would be MY job…

Today, I finished up the painting. I painted a small chest of drawers that we use as a medicine cabinet. That of course involved repainting the floor, then the wall, then the floor, then the wall, then the floor, then stepped in the wet paint on the floor, laughed at myself and fell forward, grabbed the freshly painted wall to steady myself, repainted the floor, repainted the wall, repainted the floor…

Sat down for a bit to regroup. Decided to shower. Got out of the shower and instead of flipping my hair toward the door (which is now freshly painted) I decided to flip it towards the tub, so the water would fling off of my hair and into the tub thereby not getting water spots on any of the newly painted surfaces. I toss my head back, arch my shoulders (you see where this is headed don’t you?) and with a sudden burst of energy that I didn’t realize I still had in me, I flipped my entire upper body forward as hard as I could and smashed my head right on the edge of the tub. Hard. Real hard.

My first thought was “Oh dear Lord please don’t let me pass out naked” my second thought was “Oh My God I wish I could have watched me do that” and I yelled “HOLY CRAP THAT HURT!” and then I laughed like a lunatic because it was so funny! Then , I stopped and tried to remember what I was thinking when I decided to smash my head as hard as I could on the edge of the tub…was I thinking bad thoughts of someone? Was I thinking bad thoughts of myself? Growing up when I would bite my tongue or stub my toe my great grandma would say “Well, that’s what you get!” I would say “For WHAT? I wasn’t DOING anything wrong!” And she would say ” You might not have been doing anything wrong right this minute but I am sure you have done something wrong and so….THAT’S what you get!” That logic has stayed with me…

I wrap up in a towel, stumble out of the bathroom and ask my youngest to go get me an ice pack out of the freezer. She comes back with a hard frozen brick one that goes in the cooler. I said “How about a soft one?” She goes back down and comes up with a soft ice pack that isn’t cold… I say “Ok, how about ice cubes in a plastic bag?” She comes back with 3 ice cubes, because that is how many were in the ice tray, because no one ever fills up the ice trays, wrapped in some saran wrap because we are out of plastic bags. I say thank you and here I sit, in my towel with three ice cubes melting on my head and dripping down my forehead.  Cause That’s what I get.

Ow.

Ow.

Dear Diary, It’s A Three Shower Kind Of Day

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See that steaming hot pot of water? Dump that on my foot. Good thinkin! But first, lemme go step on a rusty nail...I'm a fun gal.

See that steaming hot pot of water? Dump that on my foot. Good thinkin! But first, lemme go step on a rusty nail…I’m a fun gal.

Today on the continuing saga that is my life, I decided I would step on a rusty nail. Just because I have never done that before! A few weeks ago TWO black cats ran across the street in front of my car. And at the time I chose to believe that it was a sign of good luck. Because the Chinese believe black cats are good luck. I’m not Chinese. Just to be safe, I counted bouncing two checks and forgetting about the kid’s dentist appointment as my “black cat bad luck” . I was wrong. As I usually am. Ask my mother, she’ll tell you. Anyway, I wasn’t going to sit around waiting for the other shoe to drop. Although, in retrospect, I should have waited because then I would have had better shoes on when I decided to step on a rusty nail. C’est La Vie.

Here’s how today unfolded…I woke up, usual stuff, took the dog to the dog park. Watched him sniff butts and pee on stuff until it started to rain. Drove the 40 minutes home with a wet dog in the back seat. Put him in his crate and went to Hobby Lobby. I know, I know, we are not supposed to shop at Hobby Lobby. It is a bad place because they want to keep their female employees barefoot and pregnant. BUT they have such FUN STUFF!!!! I mean, honest to Jesus, their isle  of old fashion tin signs has GOT to be modeled after Heaven. So, I am a trader to my sex, my beliefs, my political party and the entire Woman’s Movement from 1912 till today. But God is probably cool with me and I am going to vote for Hillary regardless. Then, to compound my political incorrectness, I went to Walmart. Confessing this probably just got me kicked out of the club. But Walmart has cheap play sand (most likely it is ground up bones of the old people who died from lack of health care while working as greeters).

Came home with my cool ass vintage looking sign and 4 bags of ground up old people bones and got busy! I gingerly tip toed, in my flip flops, to the junky side of the old garage to fix the window that was crooked. I was armed with my hammer and two nails I found on the gardening bench in the shed. Because the good nails are in the basement and that would mean walking literally 1/2 of an acre and then I would be in the house so I would have no excuse to not change into my sneakers.You see my logic right? I fixed the window and literally said out loud “I hope I don’t step on a rusty nail!”, turned around, took one step, right onto a rusty nail. Nailed my foot to a board that had a rusty nail sticking straight up. And that is what I get for shopping at Hobby Lobby. I’m sure there is some Jesus/nail/ foot connection but in that moment, there was just pain. And shock. So, I used my other foot to hold the wood down while I lifted up the nailed in foot.

I hobbled out saying out loud ” I can’t believe that just happened” and I called the doctor. Because my mom is mad at me and the doctor isn’t (or at least I don’t think the doctor is? ) The doctor said I needed to come right in for a tetanus shot. She wasn’t just kidding! I swear my jaw started to lock up as I was speaking to her! It’s like lava, tornadoes and lock jaw were the biggest fears of my childhood. I drove straight over and they gave me a shot.

Came home, limped into the house, started dinner using the brand new grill! It has a side burner where I can make the salt potatoes! After dinner, the kids cleaned up and I decided that I could just toss the salt potato water on the lawn. Or…I could dump the still very HOT salt potato water right on my foot with the puncture wound. Option two sounds about right. Scalded my foot. That’s fun. Now I have lock jaw, a puncture wound and a third degree burn all on the same foot. I wonder if I become Chinese my luck would change? This is putting a real dent in my latest pedicure obsession. Life is so difficult sometimes…I blame Obama…and Hobby Lobby and the Chinese.

Look at it. LOOK. AT. IT!!!!!

Look at it. LOOK. AT. IT!!!!!