Why Be Broken in Just A Metaphysical Sense?
So. I was going to write about so many things. I was going to write about the move, and how the cat freaked right the fuck out and it was seriously amusing and also kind of sad. I was going to write about how in the upcoming days to the move I had a bloody nose problem, and the morning of the move my nose got all “pay attention to ME” and started just sort of gushing, prompting the following conversation with E:E: (banging, crashing, swearing under his breath) “I locked my keys in my car.” (the morning of the move, people, and also blocking the loading dock.) “How are you?”
Me: (Holding roughly an entire roll of paper towels to my face). “I can’t stop the bleeding.”
E: “Oh, it’s going to be a great day.”
And then I was going to write about how we were all unpacked! Sort of, unless you went near the third bedroom, and how we had taken to not mentioning the third bedroom and not going back there and pretending we were unpacked.
But I am not going to write about any of that, because I actually topped my general level of idiocy Thursday afternoon, and figure I might as well let the internet join my friends, co-workers, fellow apartment dwellers, cab drivers, people at Au Bon Pain, and perfect strangers in laughing at me.
See, Thursday, I stayed home from work because I was ill. Not dying ill, but exhausted and I can’t afford to get sick with finals coming up. So I was home, and I was watching our dvr’d Top Model, and the cat was digging his claws into me, and I realized that I might have remembered where we packed the clippers, so when there was a commercial I ran towards the third bedroom (which had since been much unpacked.)
(Yes. It has already been pointed out to me, (thanks, S, love you!) that this is even stupider because I ran during a commercial of something I taped, instead of pausing it. Sigh.)
Anyway, I am running down the hall, and apparently our new carpet? Is slippery. And just as I approached my room my feet simultaneously lost traction and went flying into the air, and gravity took over and I fell spectacularly to the floor. Which would have been funny, except for the fact that with the falling came the manic splaying of the legs, and my foot slammed against the corner of the wall.
And broke.
Oh yes, y’all, I broke my foot. Falling. On carpet. In my own apartment.
So there was a hospital trip, and Kate driving up on the sidewalk of our building, and me in a wheelchair, and a brand new x-ray technician who at least had “cute” going for him, but not so much “medical ability”, and finally me, a couch, and vicodin.
Ahh, vicodin.
Anyway, I am now hobbling around for a few weeks on crutches, and am Not Amused. Thank god for Kate and E and the Joker, who have helped me get to work and the like. And especially Kate, who has been forced to wait on me FAR too much, while I lay on the couch and make pathetic hurty noises.
In other news- E passed the bar! So that was much revelry.
Hope y’all are happy and unbroken!
posted by Citycat @ 1:27 PM
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