I won't bore you with the details. I, like everyone else, had a bad link, had to waste precious time cutting and pasting the URL into the browser, and didn't get 4-day passed to Comic Con. We got Sunday tickets and we've got plans to hang out anyway, but alas, no full con for me.
So, after the Comic Con ticket fiasco, I left my friend to study for her CPA tests and went to run errands. I jetted downtown to return library books and pay my fines (Yikes! $54!!), then headed to Target. Since I didn't spend the whole amount of Comic Con money, I decided to get groceries--real groceries, not dollar store groceries--at Target. I picked up the essentials, got out under $100, which is always a feat, and loaded up my car. I took the cart back to the cart corral, and turned to look for my car again. I started walking across the parking lot, looking for my car and not watching where I was going. Suddenly, I tripped....(pause)
(side note) Do you have one of those irrational fears that you just can't explain but which haunts you? I do. No, not my fear of the dark. I am constantly afraid of tripping and falling on my face, breaking my teeth. I don't know where this fear comes from, but any uneven sidewalk, like the one in front of my house, causes me to tread carefully and/or avoid it altogether.
(back to the story). I tripped over one of those cement blocks that keeps your car from going too far forward and I couldn't catch myself. I flew a few feet before landing in a skid, like I was coming into home plate, belly first, arms and legs stretched out in front and back. Think of Frosty the Snowman when he goes sledding with the kids. That's what I looked like. I pulled myself up, and discovered my right hand was gashed. The flashlight and whistle broke off my car keys, but my cell phone and iPod didn't have a scratch. Phew! Also, somehow, I managed to hold my head up so it didn't make contact with the pavement. I hobbled to my car and started laughing at myself, because it's always kind of funny when someone falls. Driving home was fun, because my hands hurt so much I couldn't grip the steering wheel, plus I was still laughing at myself so it was "Ow, haha, OW, haha" all the way home. Also fun? Carrying a load of groceries upstairs when both hands are disabled.
I put the milk in the fridge and washed my hands with antibacterial soap. I scrubbed them both with peroxide on a cotton ball, then Neosporin and a Band-aid on the right one. My knees are both scraped and bruised, but my jeans protected them, and oddly the top of my foot is bruised, but not scraped. All in all, I was just kind of sore but none the worse for wear. Until Sunday, when my age caught up to me and the jarring of my body became evident. I'm really achy now. Oh, and while my phone didn't break, something else did.
I reached into my purse for something and came out with a blue hand. Oh, crap! I had a gel ink pen in my purse and it broke in half emptying its entire contents into the bottom of my bag. I carefully carried it to the bathroom and started emptying the bag--inky items to the right, clean items to the left. Then, I turned the purse inside out and proceeded to try to get all that blue ink off. It was not easy and by the end of the task, my hands looked like a Smurf, but I got it fairly clean. It's drying out in my bathroom as I speak.
|Sooo bruised. Thank God, I'm right handed. Although...|
|This hand isn't much better.|
It's really difficult to take pictures of your own hands. Just saying.