I AM HARMED
Wednesday will be week 2 in the "i broke my ankle at HomeGoods" saga. Okay, I didn't break my ankle, technically. I tore ligaments in my ankle, which still fucking hurts (much less so when I take half a percoset.. half.. I am un-hardcore). Anyway.
I was moseying along in this store that's supposed to sell nice home stuff for like decent prices, but LIES and sells nice home stuff for stupid prices (prices you'd expect to see at a store that isn't part of the Marshall's/TJMAXX empire or whatever).
Getting off track.
I turn in disgust after seeing a relatively nice distressed wood nighttable that would look loverly in the second guest bedroom, with a price of $800. Not paying eight hundred bucks for a nighttable from Home Goods for the love of all that's holy. So I jauntee to my left and.. WHAP. Not even WHAP. More like... THUNK SWOOCH SKIIIID WHAP.
I'll 'splain.
THUNK: The noise my left ankle made when it hooked the bottom of this large (yet suspiciously low to the ground) furniture dolly in the middle of the aisle.
SWOOCH: The amalgam of sounds made from myself AND the furniture dolly as we both watched me succumb to gravity and fall on top of it.
SKIIIID: The sound the leetle wheels made as I went sliding across this aisle (LAMP aisle, mind you) on my makeshift skateboard.
WHAP: The sound my right ankle made when it twisted off the dolly from hell and dragged the rest of me onto the floor.
Oh yeah...
OH FUCK: Is me when I realize that I have, YET AGAIN, fucked up my motherfucking ankle. This thing hasn't been right since the first fucking grade when I tripped over a pebble and broke my little first grader ankle and had to wear a CAST all SUMMMER because it happened on the LAST DAY OF SCHOOL.
Basically, I couldn't walk -- the chicks at HomeGoods were fuh-reaking out, and they called an ambulance. Sigh. Never been on an ambulance before, but.. I'm okay with it. Until they GET THERE. I don't know if it was like... a TV show pilot that I got thrust into but it was like a cross between "ER" and "The Golden Girls." This one old dude comes to check on my ankle before the bus gets there, and he's like.. sticking ice on it and wrapping it in a scarf or something. And then HOT MOTHERFUCKING COP shows up to chit chat about what happened. So I'm trying to flirt with him, while Old Man River is wrapping up my leg to prepare me for transport to an ambulance that still isn't here. Good thing I wasn't having a heartattack or anything, christ. Anyway. HOT MOTHERFUCKING COP (heretofore mentioned as HMC) is talking, and I'm giggling... and wincing.. and groaning. But still batting my eyelashes up at him.
Then it occurs to me, people. It occurs to me that I forgot to shave my legs that morning.
Please to understand that I generate hair like fat men generate sweat, and I look down to gasp in horror that.. yes, yes. I am... sigh. . stubbly. And HMC HAS to see this of course. And I quip, in my best self-depricating/but still cute way, "Geez, at least I put on fresh clean panties this morning... giggle..."
He went for it. So that's okay. Turns out the asshead was married, so that ruined all my fun. But anyway. I got way off track and nobody is reading this anymore. Which is fine. But I am on ambien again, and we know how chatty I get when I medicate.
Anyway. After a few life-threatening minutes with Old Man River careening through traffic with all the sirens and lights on, we get to the ER. Best part about being taken by ambulance to the ER? Nooo waiting. That part kicked ass.
So, some X-rays and percosets and a FUCKING TETANUS SHOT later (which is still lumpy, by the way), I'm let go with a prescription and orders to visit my ortho, and a air-cast. Which I'm okay with. Those things are easy.
Friday comes and it's Doc time. I go in, more X-Rays... and... FUCK. She puts me in a hard fiberclass cast. WTF doc? She's all.. bones are okay, ligaments are poop. Cast for a week, and then hard (but removable) cast for two weeks. Blah blah blah.
Okay, I'm spent.
I was moseying along in this store that's supposed to sell nice home stuff for like decent prices, but LIES and sells nice home stuff for stupid prices (prices you'd expect to see at a store that isn't part of the Marshall's/TJMAXX empire or whatever).
Getting off track.
I turn in disgust after seeing a relatively nice distressed wood nighttable that would look loverly in the second guest bedroom, with a price of $800. Not paying eight hundred bucks for a nighttable from Home Goods for the love of all that's holy. So I jauntee to my left and.. WHAP. Not even WHAP. More like... THUNK SWOOCH SKIIIID WHAP.
I'll 'splain.
THUNK: The noise my left ankle made when it hooked the bottom of this large (yet suspiciously low to the ground) furniture dolly in the middle of the aisle.
SWOOCH: The amalgam of sounds made from myself AND the furniture dolly as we both watched me succumb to gravity and fall on top of it.
SKIIIID: The sound the leetle wheels made as I went sliding across this aisle (LAMP aisle, mind you) on my makeshift skateboard.
WHAP: The sound my right ankle made when it twisted off the dolly from hell and dragged the rest of me onto the floor.
Oh yeah...
OH FUCK: Is me when I realize that I have, YET AGAIN, fucked up my motherfucking ankle. This thing hasn't been right since the first fucking grade when I tripped over a pebble and broke my little first grader ankle and had to wear a CAST all SUMMMER because it happened on the LAST DAY OF SCHOOL.
Basically, I couldn't walk -- the chicks at HomeGoods were fuh-reaking out, and they called an ambulance. Sigh. Never been on an ambulance before, but.. I'm okay with it. Until they GET THERE. I don't know if it was like... a TV show pilot that I got thrust into but it was like a cross between "ER" and "The Golden Girls." This one old dude comes to check on my ankle before the bus gets there, and he's like.. sticking ice on it and wrapping it in a scarf or something. And then HOT MOTHERFUCKING COP shows up to chit chat about what happened. So I'm trying to flirt with him, while Old Man River is wrapping up my leg to prepare me for transport to an ambulance that still isn't here. Good thing I wasn't having a heartattack or anything, christ. Anyway. HOT MOTHERFUCKING COP (heretofore mentioned as HMC) is talking, and I'm giggling... and wincing.. and groaning. But still batting my eyelashes up at him.
Then it occurs to me, people. It occurs to me that I forgot to shave my legs that morning.
Please to understand that I generate hair like fat men generate sweat, and I look down to gasp in horror that.. yes, yes. I am... sigh. . stubbly. And HMC HAS to see this of course. And I quip, in my best self-depricating/but still cute way, "Geez, at least I put on fresh clean panties this morning... giggle..."
He went for it. So that's okay. Turns out the asshead was married, so that ruined all my fun. But anyway. I got way off track and nobody is reading this anymore. Which is fine. But I am on ambien again, and we know how chatty I get when I medicate.
Anyway. After a few life-threatening minutes with Old Man River careening through traffic with all the sirens and lights on, we get to the ER. Best part about being taken by ambulance to the ER? Nooo waiting. That part kicked ass.
So, some X-rays and percosets and a FUCKING TETANUS SHOT later (which is still lumpy, by the way), I'm let go with a prescription and orders to visit my ortho, and a air-cast. Which I'm okay with. Those things are easy.
Friday comes and it's Doc time. I go in, more X-Rays... and... FUCK. She puts me in a hard fiberclass cast. WTF doc? She's all.. bones are okay, ligaments are poop. Cast for a week, and then hard (but removable) cast for two weeks. Blah blah blah.
Okay, I'm spent.