I Fall Down, Go Boom

Alright, someone needs to get me a helmet. Stat. Apparently I can no longer be trusted to keep myself safe from self-inflicted bodily harm.

Let me tell you about all the bleeding I've been doing. And no, this in no way is a reference to our monthly gifts.

Last Monday, like most Mondays, I was whiny, tired, and not excited about being awake. I was also attempting to concoct a delicious strawberry-banana smoothie with my newly found blender/food processor. (I shit you not, Husband and I found not one, but TWO, food processors in our home that were shoved into a dark corner in an over-crowded cabinet. For 3 years. Perhaps someone should nominate us for one of those Hoarding shows... (I'm kidding, our house is totally clean, we just tend to clean so well that we hide shit from ourselves. For 3 years.)) So, I didn't want to use the scary food processor blade thing because I knew I was too clumsy for that, so I was going to carefully put it away... until I jammed my thumb directly into the scary food processor blade thing. And bled all over the place. And then almost passed out from the gaping slice in my left thumb.

Husband bought me some neosporin, some of that new skin crap that burns the piss out of your REAL skin, and some of those bendy bandaids for fingertips. Yay, Husband to the rescue. I went on about my week, sporadically bitching about my new-found handicap. "I can't try on pants because I can't undo the clippy hanger thing!" "I can't text!" "I can't curl my eyelashes!" ... You get it. I couldn't do shit. Important shit, at that.

Then after 5 days of the thumb slice, I added some knee slices into the mix because apparently I had forgotten all mah leg shaving skillz and shaved off some of my kneecap along with some knee hairs.

And then the following Monday, things got real ugly. Same scenario: Me, tired, pissy, not having it. Only this Monday, I opted not to attempt to make smoothie noms for fear of nearly slicing off my other thumb.

We had an 8:00 AM meeting with this cute little landscape designer chick who is going to help save us from our pathetic unlandscaped excuse of a frontyard. While she was bouncing around telling us how excited she is to "put in some accent lighting here and a pretty Japanese maple there," I decided I was going to kick some of our unattractive, good-for-nothing rocks back into place instead of on the sidewalk where someone could trip. (Oh hello Foreshadowing! I didn't see you there...)

And then it happened. There I was, in my cute 4-inch black platforms, one minute teetering on my left leg while pushing rocks out of the way with my right foot... the next minute, smack on my ass. In the middle of my sidewalk. My dress just centimeters from exposing my ridiculous animal print Victoria Secret Pink Collection hipster underwears.... My pride flattened under my ridiculous animal print underwears. Aaaand my ankle bleeding all over the pavement.

Needless to say I'm all hobbly and bloody on this disgustingly rainy Tuesday. At least I was smart enough to know better than to attempt to venture out for lunch on this miserable day. I'm going to stay safe, dry, and upright here in my new front office for the duration.

And hey, Next Monday? How about not being a jerk like your brothers. Mmkay?

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