I took a shower today with two grocery bags tied tightly around my left ankle. Which, by the way, makes like a vegetable oil-slicked sled on the bathtub bottom. I nearly slipped and split something else open.
Oh, yes. Why am I showering with a grocery bag on my foot? Because I split my toe open in a bike wreck and I refuse to take anymore baths with my left foot hung over the edge like a floppy dead seal! A coworker suggested the grocery bag technique. It worked quite well. Just a tiny puddle of water seeped into the tied bag. My foot was safe from infection, losing the bandages, and amputation.
As I dried and carried on with my morning routine, I felt increasingly distraught. But why? I showered standing up. I should feel whole again. No.
This limping around, not popping my toes, effing flip flops thing has finally fried me. I want you mended toe now!
On top of the waddling and the scooting sandal crap the newspaper is finally deterring me from opening it. If I read one more bit about the economy in the crapper, my town's declining resources, or our administration b effing us I'm going to take the showering grocery bag and wrap it tightly around my head until I hear nothing but the calm of my heart slowly stopping.
And to think...today started like any other normal day.
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