Monday, May. 09, 2005 @ 4:49 pm
The Queen of Self-Inflicted Injuries

On Friday I cleaned the house and did lots of laundry in preparation for a trip to Jeff's sister's house on the other side of town on Sunday. I wanted to get all of my weekend shit done before then so I didn't have to worry about it. Anyway, that morning as I was walking to the kitchen to cook my oatmeal, I stepped on one of Filo's balls (not the ones the vet removed, heh) in the hallway and my foot started to slip out from under me. (Did the stinky bastard do that on purpose?) As I flailed to catch myself, I slammed my right hand into the door frame of the furnace closet. It was one of those things where you just grab the injured appendage and double over wondering how long it will continue to hurt. I'm sort of surprised I didn't break something. It swelled up and throbbed even though I put an ice pack on it immediately trying to alleviate the pain. Geez, my middle finger joint on the same hand is still enlarged from when I slammed it into the bathroom counter trying to get the last bit of sunscreen from a tube. (And now larger from this injury.) I'm just going to knock the whole damn thing off one day.

It swelled up even more that night and on Saturday because I was too busy to sit still with the hand elevated and iced for very long. There was almost no indentation between my last two knuckles. It didn't hurt much unless I hit it on something or tried to use that hand to carry or grip anything. It developed a red tint in the folds of the joint which alarmed me just a bit. But it's fading now. Now it's still slightly swollen and discolored a bit, and uncomfortable in use. I mean really, am I the queen of self-inflicted injury? Remember the attempted de-gloving in 1997?


On Sautrday we drove around all over our side of town trying to find two different TV repair places. One was listed in the wrong city in the phone book, which I found out after calling them. We followed the incorrect mapquest directions until deciding to call. "Oh, we're in Villa Rica. The phone company got it wrong." Nice. For once it wasn't mapquest's fault. Another place was closed, though Jeff was told they'd be open until 2:00. I left a message for another with Jeff's cell phone number, but they never called back. Where the hell can you look at a phone book when you're not at home? They don't put them in pay phones any more.

We went home to regroup and eat lunch, and I found another place out by missleigh. We dropped the TV off, went to the grocery store, and got home in time for them to call us and tell us to come get it. Wow. Talk about service! They had to solder something, and opted to not replace the ant/cable connection 1 in lieu of an alternative hookup (and to save us 'a hundred bucks'). They assured me it would work, but it doesn't. Using the RCA hookups instead of the co-ax from the cable box and VCR, that works fine. But now, the VCR will not play. Well, it does, but not clearly. I think it either needs an A/B switch, or I'll have to take the TV back to have whatever fixed for the old hookup. The VCR needs to be separated from the cable, apparently. Luckily I don't need to record in there, just view. I've never been able to do that without having to watch what's recording anyway, and what's the point of that? Now, I'm not a dummy about these things, but they had even me confused when trying to explain it on the phone before we picked the TV up. They were really nice, though, and said to call them if I had any problems.


Sunday before we left for his sister's, Debbie called me about my sister. Guess what? She ran away from the current group home. I was not at all surprised. Her mom, stepdad and dad actually were because it seemed like such a good place for her. I don't know all of the details, but the cops picked her up that night. Now she's with DFCS. They made it clear to her that she will not leave there without someone knowing, since all the doors and windows have alarms. It probably sucks, but I'm glad she's there - somewhere where we know where she is and know she's safe. There was a hearing today that her parents were to attend. (I'm supposed to get an update sometime, but haven't yet.) They will not agree to her living with one of them, and will advise them of their intent to press charges on the whole burglary thing. Her mom wants her to go to a boot camp. She may (hopefully) be feeling differently about this today, having been bitter and angry yesterday on Mother's Day, of all days. After talking to a friend at work who has a family member who is bipolar, this may not be the best action to take. When she told me that, I said, "Can she get some psychiatric care there?" Whether or not she is bipolar or not, she needs it. I can understand their frustration, though. They probably feel like they have no alternatives, now that she's spit in everyone's faces who tried to help her. I guess she knows not to call me and try this route. Christy don't play that. Good thing she's realized that early on.


Reading: Tori Amos: Piece by Piece - with Ann Powers
Listening to: South of Heaven - Slayer


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The last five:
See ya! - Friday, Mar. 17, 2006
Where's the Excedrin? - Saturday, Mar. 11, 2006
don't even get me started - Tuesday, Mar. 07, 2006
I'm not mean, you're just a sissy. - Monday, Mar. 06, 2006
countdown to defection - Sunday, Mar. 05, 2006

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