Have you ever had one of those days where you were destined to take a couple of shots to the gourd? Yep, that was today. It all started this morning with me getting up to sleep on the couch in my office (It's a long story). I drug my comforter to my office and layed down for a couple of hours.
......
Two hours later my alarm goes off and I get up to slap it around. Wrapped in the comforter I toddle back too my room to get the alarm, in the process I trip over my blanket, fall down the stairs, and bang my head twice in the process. Now I don't think I blacked out, but it took me a minute or two to really feel like myself again. My roommate comes out and asks me if I'm laying on her cat (She thought I'd tripped over him). Not, "Are you OK?", Not "Did you hurt yourself?", but "Are you laying on my cat?" Gee thanks. I'm OK. I gather my wits and my bedclothes and drag myself back to the bedroom. BTW, I wasn't laying on her cat. I then proceeded to spend the next 20 - 30 minutes reexamining my life, and what I've done with it. This isn't considered self indulgent if you've just fallen down the stairs backwards while half asleep, and whacked your head twice in the process. At this point a smart person would have called into work and said, "I've fallen down the stairs, I'm going to be late for work."
...
I ain't that person. Eventually I drag my ass out of bed, take a shower, drive to work, work, eat lunch, work, etc. I left work today promptly at five. After works was a coworker's going away party, and we had somewhere to be.
....
Harry's Countryclub. It's a bar if you don't know. We'd all gathered there for a few beers to wish him well. The seating arrangement was a little weird. I ended up sitting in a chair wedged between two booths. The first time I sat down in the chair I managed to whack my mellon on a giant mirror hanging behind me. Yup it hurt. I hadn't had anything to drink yet.
Jump forward two hours.
It is now time to break the seal. I get up to run some water through the pipes. Upon returning I sit down and whack my head again, on the same mirror. (I probably deserve that one. Should have learned the first time.) It made a loud bang, and I looked up and realized that I'd actually put a crack in the mirror. Everybody turned around and looked in my direction, but most people hadn't seen what had happened. I just played dumb. It wasn't very hard since I'd just been hit over the head for the fourth time in one day. Everybody who saw had a good laugh at my expense, and I ordered another round of anesthetic.
Jump ahead a few more hours.
Now sober again, and ready to go home. I hop in my car and rub the back of my head. It's sore. Imagine that? I get home about 30 minutes later. The roommate's cats come up to greet me. I bent over to pet one in the kitchen, and when I stood up, you'll never guess what I did.
...
Yup. I smashed my head on the underside of the counter. Now you may be asking yourself, "How the hell did he manage that?". This was on the side of the counter, that the realtor called a "breakfast bar". It's got a larger overhang, and it's a little higher off the ground than the rest of the counter. Regardless of what it's called it hurt like hell. This unfortunate event elicited a laugh from my roommate. She seems quite sensitive doesn't she.
...
I'm sure there's a moral to be had somewhere for this story. Unfortunately my head hurts so much that I can't imagine what it might be.
No comments:
Post a Comment