I believe days like this are what the overwhelmption icon was made for....
At least I haven't brought any bookshelves and chairs down upon my head. Yet.
So, there's a boil water order for the greater Boston area (article here), which means everything is just slightly more difficult than it already would be for someone on crutches like me. A bit ago I went to brush my teeth, right? And once I had painstakingly crutched my way into the bathroom, I realized I hadn't brought any clean water with me. Sigh.
Okay, so then as I was debating the best way to get clean water and my toothbrush into a mutually agreeable toothbrushing place, the doorbell rang, which made me about jump out of my skin (this is par for the course--loud, unexpected noises will startle me, and the doorbell ringing unexpectedly sends my anxiety into overdrive because OMG am I going to have to socialize with someone now?), but I managed to stay upright with my weight on my uninjured ankle. I started making my way to the door, thumping along slowly, and realized along the way that I had apparently done something to strain my left bicep, which was now complaining with each step. Okay, I resolved, I would not move around too much today. Maybe I wouldn't answer the door at all. But I had to get to a place where I could sit.
And then the doorbell rang again while I was in mid hobble-hop (hopple?), and this time it startled me enough that I lost a crutch, stumbled on my injured ankle, fell to protect the ankle from further injury, and caused quite a lot of racket. This led the insistent doorbell ringer to ring twice more while I hauled myself up (with really quite a minimal amount of cursing, I think, given the circumstances).
I did get to the door after that, feeling I really had no choice since they obviously knew I was inside, whoever they were, and they also obviously weren't going away. So, I opened it, prepared to be super cranky (I have to admit here that I fully expected it to be Jehovah's Witnesses or similar at this point), and... it was a census taker.
Oh. I can't be angry with census takers. Damn.
She wanted to come in for ten minutes to give me the community questions, but I demurred. Could she possibly come back later? I had fallen, and I needed to see to my ankle. She asked if I wanted her to call an ambulance. No, thanks very much. I just needed ice and painkillers. And, I thought, but didn't say, probably to clean up some of the horrifying mess that is the house at present.
Dishes, junk mail, the giant bottle of Buttershots on the coffee table.... I mean, really, giant bottles of alcohol are one thing, but giant bottles of what basically amounts to the Spice Girls of alcohol? Demoralizing. Even if it does taste like delicious liquid candy. And I know she's coming back later today, so I have to figure out something. I guess I can hopple around with a backpack to collect things in. So much for not moving.
And I still need to brush my teeth, too.
So, there's a boil water order for the greater Boston area (article here), which means everything is just slightly more difficult than it already would be for someone on crutches like me. A bit ago I went to brush my teeth, right? And once I had painstakingly crutched my way into the bathroom, I realized I hadn't brought any clean water with me. Sigh.
Okay, so then as I was debating the best way to get clean water and my toothbrush into a mutually agreeable toothbrushing place, the doorbell rang, which made me about jump out of my skin (this is par for the course--loud, unexpected noises will startle me, and the doorbell ringing unexpectedly sends my anxiety into overdrive because OMG am I going to have to socialize with someone now?), but I managed to stay upright with my weight on my uninjured ankle. I started making my way to the door, thumping along slowly, and realized along the way that I had apparently done something to strain my left bicep, which was now complaining with each step. Okay, I resolved, I would not move around too much today. Maybe I wouldn't answer the door at all. But I had to get to a place where I could sit.
And then the doorbell rang again while I was in mid hobble-hop (hopple?), and this time it startled me enough that I lost a crutch, stumbled on my injured ankle, fell to protect the ankle from further injury, and caused quite a lot of racket. This led the insistent doorbell ringer to ring twice more while I hauled myself up (with really quite a minimal amount of cursing, I think, given the circumstances).
I did get to the door after that, feeling I really had no choice since they obviously knew I was inside, whoever they were, and they also obviously weren't going away. So, I opened it, prepared to be super cranky (I have to admit here that I fully expected it to be Jehovah's Witnesses or similar at this point), and... it was a census taker.
Oh. I can't be angry with census takers. Damn.
She wanted to come in for ten minutes to give me the community questions, but I demurred. Could she possibly come back later? I had fallen, and I needed to see to my ankle. She asked if I wanted her to call an ambulance. No, thanks very much. I just needed ice and painkillers. And, I thought, but didn't say, probably to clean up some of the horrifying mess that is the house at present.
Dishes, junk mail, the giant bottle of Buttershots on the coffee table.... I mean, really, giant bottles of alcohol are one thing, but giant bottles of what basically amounts to the Spice Girls of alcohol? Demoralizing. Even if it does taste like delicious liquid candy. And I know she's coming back later today, so I have to figure out something. I guess I can hopple around with a backpack to collect things in. So much for not moving.
And I still need to brush my teeth, too.