Driving this morning- 4:15a, on a main 4-lane road thru a wealthy neighborhood, where they refuse to have street lights so it’s dark as fuck, a herd of javelina ran out in front of me, and BAM, I nailed one. Car seems fine, I’ll stop by the tire store to have it checked, but the front driver side tire went up in the air, well, the car did, anyway. Dammit.
On the bright side, lots of free, organic pork! And it’s already been … grilled!
asshats are out firing a moderately large caliber weapon behind the farm at 0100 in the freaking morning. Since there had been no sounds of police before or after the sounds I doubt it was someone protecting their property on the back 45 acres of woodlot and swamp so it was probably someone out spotlighting deer. I am no longer in the cinderblock house, but the wood frame and paneling barn, so I could have been an inadvertant ‘drive by’ victim if a round had been aimed in my direction.
I am NOT surviving stage 3 cancer to die of some asshat spotlighting bambi in my freaking woods.
So a few months ago when I was battling a cold, I bought a huge bag of cough drops. I was eating them like candy, and bonus, they were sugar free. I didn’t notice the small writing on the bag that said “excess consumption may cause a laxative effect” but not reading the warning didn’t matter as I soon discovered things for myself.
Ok, that was a few months ago. Today, I again have a bit of a cough and find that I have an old bag of cough drops. Because I’m an idiot, I have been eating them like candy, completely forgetting about that warning on the bag.
Of course, this is also the afternoon when the cleaning crew cleans the restrooms…
So, I seem to have misplaced my wallet. I went about my morning like normal and I don’t need money to buy lunch or anything. But my wallet was not in my purse when I went to get my debit card to buy a pop out of the vending machine.
I do the normal things like take everything out of my purse and check my car and the wheel well and everything. It doesn’t show up. So I text my husband to see if he’s done something with it. He hasn’t but when I called him to ask, nicely, if he would run home on his lunch break to check it out, he acted like I asked him to go to the moon over a very trivial problem. I know it is probably just sitting on the chair next to where my purse was when grabbed it this morning but, dude, does my mental health mean nothing to you? It doesn’t apparently.
So I’m just gonna worry about it all afternoon while getting nothing done at work. Yay…
OK. I just realized that I sound like an entitled asshole. And maybe I was acitng a little like an entitled asshole. I wasn’t really expecting my husband to drop everything and drive home for me. It was how he said no, not that he said no.
I have an injury to the back of my left hand. It looks worse than it is, it’s superficial but there is bruising and an abrasion that looks pretty nasty.
I was leaving a bar yesterday and I had “won” a pint glass. It is a duplicate, and my gf has put her foot down about me bringing home any more glasses, especially dupes, so I offered the glass to a group at a table. They accepted it and thanked me.
One of the guys noticed my hand and asked how it happened. I told him it was a funny thing; every spring around this same time stuff like this occurs on one or both hands, gets worse, then spontaneously heals, not even leaving a scar.
Most of them got that I was kidding, but one guy at the table went nuts. He asked if I was a christian and I said no. He then tells me about how I have been blessed by the light of jesus christ with stigmata. And he went on and on. His wife tried interrupting, but he was excited and on a roll. I looked at my phone and told them I had to run.
Dag Otto: Been there! I feel your pain (not literally, thank goodness)
Dunkin has Peeps flavored coffee now. I have not tried it. I’m not sure it’s really worth ranting about at all. It just seems like another “What’s this world coming to?” Like Lady Doritos.
Goddamn friggin JESUS with the robo calls. Just please, people, let’s all band together and hold hands and make. it. stop.
The current rental is a split level house; the wooden stair is really slippery so I’d been thinking of getting some of that anti-slip tape.
Thinking.
Ouch. OwowowowowOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!
Once I was able to think again after my fall this morning, I was astounded to see I’d only broken the required nail*. I eventually dusted myself off, bought the tape and went across the street to tell the owner of the rental that I’d be putting the tape on. It’s a good thing her BF was there…
Me: “yeah, so, the stairs are real slippery so I bought this and”
BF: “oh yeah, great idea!”
Owner: “can that thing be removed? It’s grey! It’s ugly!”
Me: “ah, it’s actually transparent. They had yellow-glo, black or transparent, I thought transparent would be best.”
Owner: “but can it be removed?”
Me thinking ‘chica, even if it had been the glo version it would look less bad than needing to call an ambulance. Blood is a real ugly color on light wood, let me tell you.’
BF: “it can be removed, I promise”
Owner: “are you sure honey?”
BF: “absolutely. And it’s actually a great idea, those stairs are very bad.”
I didn’t give him a hug because I didn’t wanna embarrass him.
Now the transparent tape is in place and my big left toe is trying to equal an eggplant in color. It looks weird, parts of it are dark blue and parts are the usual pink.
- I’m reasonably sure there’s a Law of Physics, or maybe a Trope of Actual Reality, which makes it impossible for a woman to fall and not break a nail.