Thursday, June 7, 2012

I am an idiot

I am an idiot.  I managed to fall and sprain my ankle stepping through a door I've walked through thousands of times before. 

It's Saturday, roughly 4pm.  We're getting ready to head off to a birthday party for an old and ear friend of mine.  The night before I baked 6 dozen mini cornbread muffins (I know you're shocked that I baked, but I can't really only make cornbread, and it's my own recipe).  The birthday boy request my hot pink bathing suit, and despite the fact that I think I look like a beached whale in a bathing suit, I'd decided I'd put on my XL big girl panties and just get over it.  I'd even found one of the sarongs he gave me all those years ago (1999) that matched the suit.  (hey, if I'm going to look like a beached whale, at least I can tastefully cover up the worst bits when out of the water)

I'm packed and ready to roll, Ed's taking care of some last minute stuff.  He suggests that we encourage the dogs to go potty before we crate them for the evening.  So I decide to take care of it.  "Who wants to go potty?  Let's go potty!" as I head for the back yard.  Cue two large black dogs racing each other for the dog door.  I step into the garage - no problem.  I open the door to the back yard - no problem.  I step through the door - problem. 

I honestly have no idea what happened, other than the obvious.  Somehow, I stepped funny and my right foot supinated and turned under me and down I went.  I heard some lovely pops and felt searing pain.  I started screaming.  Mr Empathetic (*sarcasm*) comes out.  "What's wrong!?"  And it pretty much went down hill from there.  (like it's not obvious I've done something to my foot considering I'm clutching it and crying/screaming)

It's the same ankle I dislocated when I was 14.  I've had problems with it ever since. 

I was furious that we missed the party.  Angry at myself.  I'm still angry. 

I'm on the mend, and thanks to my local BFF who is also a medic, I'm mending quickly. He came by that night to look at it.  He yelled at me for not doing enough for it, and then iced it (god damn that was cold!) and wrapped it (he's not that gentle). I swear, neither of the men in my life are very empathetic.  He took me to the Dr on Monday, and the Dr was amused that I have my own personal medic.  He stopped by last night and looked at it again.  He's pleased with my progress. 

Still, I'm an idiot.  And I hate my ankle.

Conversations with Co-Workers

Seems like I've been having a lot of strange conversations with co-workers lately.  I take it as a good sign - I try not to let too much of my weirdness show around people with whom I'm not particularly close.

Since I've been a casualty of my own clumsiness and not driving (but that's another post), the Office Mama's been driving me in this week.  We've talked about:
  •  high end sex toy shops (I love Tulip in Chicago)
  • vaj-dazzlers.  According to RK, it's apparently "a thing" now to decorate your lady bits with body sequins.  Luckily, he and most of the others who commented find it absurd (I prefer a more understated and elegant aesthetic.  If less is more, then none is most.).  

Some of the stranger conversations in the office with Mr Coffee and JB have included:
  • the vaj-dazzler (it's just too funny to not make fun of!)
  • mispronounced words, like "ax a qwershchun", "kerger" (cougar), and windoos (windows)
  • the Boondocks and its social commentary
  • in depth discussions of race relations
  • political history
  • why Texas is so f-ed up
  • current politics
  • the War on Women (and my comment to Mr Coffee that the last time I checked, there were no politicians in my hooha)
  • religion (and how I dodged a bullet when asked "And where do you attend services?"  You'd be so proud of me!  I didn't say "I left the church for a myriad of political and personal reasons, namely the constant spewing of hate from people who claim to follow the teachings of a man who preached love."  Instead, I deflected with "My family attends XYZ now."
  • body art, and my collection of it and burning desire for more (no, I've not dropped my pants at the office to show some of it off)
  • my father (who worked here before I started)
  • the complexities of my strange and twisting family tree
  • sex ("People like to mate." - JB)
  • coffee accoutrements and the virtues of French Press
  • gossiping about a certain Tea Party member here
  • who's going to babysit for me once Mini-Leah or Mini-Ed is created
  • more sex
  • and other "taboo" topics that I can't really recall right now
I've also pointed out some unfortunate stains to Mr Coffee, warned him to XYZ, and sewn a button back on his shirt (while he was wearing it).  

Some days, I'm convinced we're all going to hell.  At least I'll be there with some good friends.