Humpty Dumpty...
Right, well, where to start...
We moved. It was a pretty good experiance, although I was totally stressed out thru the day. My mother, though she's wonderful and helpful, has a broken arm and kept trying to lift things - and drove me insane. Diane... well, was Diane. My dad had to leave early. Yay parents. *pokes them lovingly in the eye* It went smoothly though, nothing broke - at least, nothing we've unpacked so far anyway.
Thank you to those of you who helped - you're great! To those of you who called at 7:40 PM (when we started at 11 AM) and said you could be over to help in 45 minutes after you dropped your stupid dog off at your stupid selfish house, screw you. (But I'm not talking to anyone *specific*... really)
*Ahem* But anyway... back to the good and the positive and the wonderful! Again, thanks to all our friends who helped us with the U-Haul truck of death, and especially thanks to Hegge and his supra-tetris-truck-packing-skillz! And a special, special thanks to Marilyn, who went to the Kitsap game, got home at 6 AM and was up and working on moving boxes at 11 AM. We didn't know until she told us, and yet, when she got FIRED and sent home to sleep, she sent appologies that she couldn't help more. I love that girl. *ponders what to do to thank her...* (any suggestions would be helpful)
We now totally have an apartment that is our very own. It rocks. A lot.
Clearly, I also have internet connectivity too. Yay DSL!
In other good news, my nephew was born today at 8:30 AM. Little Zarko was month early, and is a Virgo (for those that care). His real name is Everett Turner, and as yet he does not have a middle name. Zarko is an inside family joke... which I suppose I'll explain if anyone cares and thusly asks.
On the bad side... I have maimed myself. As Melsner says "The apartmant cries for blooood!" And boy did it get it's share. Yesterday afternoon, around 3:30 I decided I'd put my desk together and so, opened one end of the box and started to pour the peices out. Now, I'd cleared out the office/den area so I could put it together there, and in doing so I had folded up a long, heavy, folding table and put it to the side - ostensibly so I wouldn't trip over it and hurt myself. Ahh, how foolish I was.
So, as I'm pouring the table peices out of the box they are much heavier and more slippery than I had expected them to be, and thus... come out much faster than expected. I stumble back under the weight and my foot goes down *hard* on the metal lip on the underside of the above mentioned table-of-doom.
"OW!" I think, wincing "that hurt..." A few seconds pass and my brain registers the full measure of the pain "no... wait, that REALLY FUCKING HURT." So I lift my foot up to look, and at the odd angle I'm looking... there's this horrible flap of skin dangling off my heel... and a POOL of blood forming. So I rush, quick as I can out the back sliders, in through the bedroom sliders and into the bathroom. I wash my foot off, and wrap it in a towel and hop to the bed noticing the bright red stains I've left behind with a sigh.
I called my mother, and begged, whimpered, demanded she come and take me to the emergency room. She came. I called Becah, to destract me from the growing pain. We talked of where to hang things, and where bookshelves would go, and how to get blood out of a carpet (soak the spot in simple cold water and blot) and how neat it was to have a place of my own. She offered to come put my desk together for me.
My mother arrived, noted that my foot was no longer bleeding, and poked at it dubious if I needed to go to the emergency room or not. I told her I at least wanted a Doctor to tell me I was over-reacting if I was. She felt that was fair, after having a look around at how much blood I'd left behind on my short trip to the bathroom. We sat in the waiting room for 3 hours, and when it came time the doctor didn't feel stitches were the best way to go.
Apparently I'd cut myself very deeply, which anywhere else would have meant stitches - but, because it was my heel, it was mostly calus anyway and since there's not vasculature (blood veseles etc) in calaus, it won't heel. So... she numbed me up good, cleaned out the wound, and glued me back together.
When I got home, Becah and Nessim were mostly finished with the desk and so I made Kabobs for dinner and we had a nice, relaxing meal after they were done. I am maimed, however, and can no longer lift or you know, walk. It blows. Sigh!
We moved. It was a pretty good experiance, although I was totally stressed out thru the day. My mother, though she's wonderful and helpful, has a broken arm and kept trying to lift things - and drove me insane. Diane... well, was Diane. My dad had to leave early. Yay parents. *pokes them lovingly in the eye* It went smoothly though, nothing broke - at least, nothing we've unpacked so far anyway.
Thank you to those of you who helped - you're great! To those of you who called at 7:40 PM (when we started at 11 AM) and said you could be over to help in 45 minutes after you dropped your stupid dog off at your stupid selfish house, screw you. (But I'm not talking to anyone *specific*... really)
*Ahem* But anyway... back to the good and the positive and the wonderful! Again, thanks to all our friends who helped us with the U-Haul truck of death, and especially thanks to Hegge and his supra-tetris-truck-packing-skillz! And a special, special thanks to Marilyn, who went to the Kitsap game, got home at 6 AM and was up and working on moving boxes at 11 AM. We didn't know until she told us, and yet, when she got FIRED and sent home to sleep, she sent appologies that she couldn't help more. I love that girl. *ponders what to do to thank her...* (any suggestions would be helpful)
We now totally have an apartment that is our very own. It rocks. A lot.
Clearly, I also have internet connectivity too. Yay DSL!
In other good news, my nephew was born today at 8:30 AM. Little Zarko was month early, and is a Virgo (for those that care). His real name is Everett Turner, and as yet he does not have a middle name. Zarko is an inside family joke... which I suppose I'll explain if anyone cares and thusly asks.
On the bad side... I have maimed myself. As Melsner says "The apartmant cries for blooood!" And boy did it get it's share. Yesterday afternoon, around 3:30 I decided I'd put my desk together and so, opened one end of the box and started to pour the peices out. Now, I'd cleared out the office/den area so I could put it together there, and in doing so I had folded up a long, heavy, folding table and put it to the side - ostensibly so I wouldn't trip over it and hurt myself. Ahh, how foolish I was.
So, as I'm pouring the table peices out of the box they are much heavier and more slippery than I had expected them to be, and thus... come out much faster than expected. I stumble back under the weight and my foot goes down *hard* on the metal lip on the underside of the above mentioned table-of-doom.
"OW!" I think, wincing "that hurt..." A few seconds pass and my brain registers the full measure of the pain "no... wait, that REALLY FUCKING HURT." So I lift my foot up to look, and at the odd angle I'm looking... there's this horrible flap of skin dangling off my heel... and a POOL of blood forming. So I rush, quick as I can out the back sliders, in through the bedroom sliders and into the bathroom. I wash my foot off, and wrap it in a towel and hop to the bed noticing the bright red stains I've left behind with a sigh.
I called my mother, and begged, whimpered, demanded she come and take me to the emergency room. She came. I called Becah, to destract me from the growing pain. We talked of where to hang things, and where bookshelves would go, and how to get blood out of a carpet (soak the spot in simple cold water and blot) and how neat it was to have a place of my own. She offered to come put my desk together for me.
My mother arrived, noted that my foot was no longer bleeding, and poked at it dubious if I needed to go to the emergency room or not. I told her I at least wanted a Doctor to tell me I was over-reacting if I was. She felt that was fair, after having a look around at how much blood I'd left behind on my short trip to the bathroom. We sat in the waiting room for 3 hours, and when it came time the doctor didn't feel stitches were the best way to go.
Apparently I'd cut myself very deeply, which anywhere else would have meant stitches - but, because it was my heel, it was mostly calus anyway and since there's not vasculature (blood veseles etc) in calaus, it won't heel. So... she numbed me up good, cleaned out the wound, and glued me back together.
When I got home, Becah and Nessim were mostly finished with the desk and so I made Kabobs for dinner and we had a nice, relaxing meal after they were done. I am maimed, however, and can no longer lift or you know, walk. It blows. Sigh!