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This Day in My History

Mid-Night Musings
 Take 2 Aspirin and Call Me in 6 Months
2003:  The "E" Word
2004:  I Dreamed I Went Shopping in my Just My Size Bra



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Tug of war is my very favorite game.  I can play like this for hours.  And hours.  And hours.  And hours.

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24 February 2005

I hadn't intended to tell the story here.  I shared it with a couple of people and decided that I embarrass myself publicly enough, but (a) I needed something to talk about, and (b) what happened today made me decide what the hell.

I was not born with the grace of a gazelle.  I've been a klutz all of my life and, of course, like everything else, with age it has grown worse.  I should wear a bib for every meal because I seem to spill everything I eat--somehow in the distance between the plate and my mouth, I just lose half of it.  Cereal, soup, salad, casseroles, coffee...it matters not.  It all spills down my front.  And, of course, since my front sticks out so far, it ends up on my chest, rather than inconspicuously in my lap, so I end up walking around the world looking like some homeless woman who hasn't washed her clothes in months.

When Peggy was here, after going through a couple of stores with me, seeing me either just miss, or just catch something I'd knocked over, she would make me wait outside until she was finished shopping.  In stores with larger aisles, she'd allow me to join her, but rolled her eyes a lot.

Now if you add to my normal klutziness the fact that I am grossly overweight, which always makes moving more difficult, and that I can't kneel on my left knee or push up from the ground with my right foot (which has a broken toe that I didn't realize was broken until it was too late to do anything about it), moving around becomes a challenge.

So with that preamble, let's start with today.  My desk is exactly 36" wide, so there's not a lot of space, especially for someone who couldn't keep a 36 FOOT wide desk clean.  Everything gets all jammed together.  The monitor rests on a platform that Walt built with very little space on either side of it, because of the built-in shelf to the right of the monitor and the desk edge to the left.

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As you can see, I use that space on either side of the monitor.   I don't know how--but somehow with the vibration of the desk, the speaker on the left there kept moving back farther and farther on the platform.  And, since there is no BACK on the platform, this morning it fell off onto the floor.

Should be a simple task...get down on hands and knees, pick it up, move it up to the platform and continue working.  Only I can't get down on hands and knees, there is VERY little room between me and the file cabinet behind me, because the chair is in the way, and the only way to move the chair is to lift it up over my head and move it past the desk to the left of my computer desk.

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So, I struggled and struggled to get down to the floor.  The best way to move the speaker up was to lift it behind the desk with one hand and reach over the top of the desk and grab it with the other hand--only that required being on my knees and I can't get to my knees, and in trying to make do, I managed to knock everything off the top of my desk, so I had all sorts of junk all over the floor.  I uttered an expletive.  I decided to get Walt to help, only that required getting up off the floor, which is difficult because the only thing to hold on to is the chair, which is on wheels.  If I grab onto the desk, I'll knock everything off again.  And I can't just put my foot under me, the natural way to do it, because of my toe. 

I'm just glad that there is no security camera in here. 

Walt did manage to get the speaker back up on the desk and I was in business again.  But that brings me back to what happened the other night that I said I wasn't going to put in my journal.

I had gone to a rehearsal of "Rocky Horror Show," to do some interviews for a feature article I was writing.  I watched Act 1, interviewed some of the performers, and decided not to stay for Act 2. I had parked in the University parking lot and in the time I was gone, a huge truck had pulled up RIGHT next to me. On the driver's side. TWIGGY couldn't have gotten in on that side. Fortunately, there was room on the passenger side.

I got in on the passenger side, released the brake so I could reach over and move the driver's seat as far back as it would go. That's when I discovered my knee would not bend. Hardly at all. There was absolutely no way that my leg was going to bend enough to get it over the console in the middle of the car to get into the driver's seat.

There was only one alternative. I had to get OUT of the car, stand on the ground next to the passenger's side, and lift my mostly-straight leg into the driver's seat. I did that and it worked.

But now I had one leg in the driver's seat and one leg outside and I was doing very painful splits.  I wasn't spread that far apart any of the times I gave birth!

It was at this moment that my usually iron bladder decided to recall that it was really 62 years old and that it has been served a bunch of diuretics lately. I'm standing with my legs spread apart, I can't move either leg and I'm peeing, goddammit!

Fortunately, I was able to get the bladder under control before too much damage had been done, I was finally able to lift the right leg into the car, hanging on to the overhead hand hook to help lift myself up so I could move the leg, and got it over the gearshift console and into the driver's side. I seriously considered running my key all along the side of the truck, but I'm too much a lady for that--despite the fact that I do the splits and pee in my pants.

I'm just glad that it was very dark in that parking lot and there was no chance anybody happened to see me make a total idiot of myself.

I can hardly wait to see what the next way I'm going to embarrass myself is going to be.

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I miss my puppies!!

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This song has my very favorite line in it:
"Her salad days were over when they served the second course."

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