The Latest from Lola's Diner

Thursday, December 18, 2008

How on earth am I going to get these gifts wrapped?

As it stands now I have exactly ZERO presents wrapped. Zip, Zero, Zilch. Why is that? Because I always wait until the last minute. I procrastinate because I need that adrenalin rush. I can’t do it without it. I need that high I get from having less than 16 hours until Christmas morning, watching back to back to back Christmas movies, and drinking too much spiked eggnog.

Actually, this year I was going to start last Friday, then I lost my momentum and didn’t do a darn thing. Then I was going to start this coming Friday. (Fridays are good because I can stay up all night if I need to because Anastasia is away on her caregiver gig.) But then this happened Tuesday night:
Isn’t it lovely? (Ok, no need to critique the composition, and it is quite blurry. Have you ever tried to photograph your own thumb?)

Tuesday night after the snowfall Anastasia decides to take out the snow thrower and clear the driveway. She calls me out because she can’t start it. So being the dutiful wife, I slip on my shoes and coat and go give it a try. It’s electric start, so shouldn’t be a big deal. (Maybe that was my problem, perhaps I was a little bit too smug about it. I think maybe karma got me and it got me real good.)

It wasn’t starting. Then I remembered that the clutch lever (I think that’s what it’s called, it’s a spring loaded bar that has to be pulled toward the handle in order to start the snow thrower and keep it running, similar to a walk behind lawnmower) wasn’t pulled toward the handle. So I pulled it toward the handle and it seemed to lock in place. Then I fiddled with the power cord for the electric start and the throttle. Somehow in my maneuvering my left hand got near the handle at just the precise moment that the clutch lever springs released. I will admit to saying a lengthy string of obscenities that began with “A Christmas Story’s” classic “fudge”. Only not “fudge”. Then I progressed onto “Holy Mother of God” and so on. All the while I was swearing, I was jumping up and down. Don’t even ask me why, because I couldn’t tell you. It hurt like a motherf*****. And it still does.

Anastasia and my son did not come to my aid. They continued shoveling the driveway the old fashioned way. But I have to tell you they would be lying if they said they weren’t laughing their arses off. My son in particular enjoys laughing at people in pain. (So does my daughter, but she was inside lounging watching television while everyone else worked.) Why do they laugh when someone hurts themselves? They did mention that a neighbor across the road heard me and hesitated and almost started to walk over. Apparently Anastasia and my son's lack of concern stopped him.

Anyway, now my thumbnail and the skin around it is a lovely shade of blue. My entire thumb is also very swollen. I almost wonder if I fractured it. If I even brush something up against it, I’m in a whole lot of pain.

So, how on earth am I going to get my gift wrapping done? I’m left handed, I can’t even write legibly at this point because I can’t grip a pen. But I can type. Not that many words require the use of the left thumb in typing. Thank goodness!

I can still blog!

I
do have my priorities in order!

1 comment:

Da Old Man said...

That thumb looks nasty.
You're right, though, so often w laugh at pain. Probably because of 3 Stooges flashbacks

 
Lola's Diner Was recently updated by by CreativeBlogMe.com copyright 2009 ©