Friday, the 13th

Oh, it's not the 13th? Could have fooled me 'cause it was a hell of a day. Picked up the beginnings of a cold the night before and Wal-Mart was blowing cold air. Bone-chilling cold at home and then cold air at work? Please. The prospect of heat and the paycheck are the only real reasons to go to work. Anyway, I suffered as long as possible. Sneezing over everything. Finally asked to leave, picking up cold medicine on the way out. Heavy dose, let the dog out, checked on the pups, and hit the bed.

Friday dawned brightly. More dosing and checking on the brood. I've been told that Cindy should be given puppy food to pass on the nutrients to the pups. Out to the store I go. Honestly, this is becoming expensive. Visions of food for me, cigarettes, utilities, pass through my head. And, I'm spending money on a dog??? Anyway, obligatory stops at the utility companies and back home to the "family."

Have to feel sorry for Piss-Ant. She is skin and bones. The brood is literally sucking the life out of her. All they do is mewl and suck. The runt has a problem because he/she is smaller and is knocked away by the others. It also seems to have a problem finding the teat. A baby bottle and packaged milk is in order. Good grief, more money. I thought my days of formula, heating bottles, etc., were over.

Take Cindy out to give her a breather. She gets underfoot and down I go. I'd like to think it was quick reflexes but give thanks to divine intervention which allowed me to break my fall just as my face kissed the sidewalk. I was stunned and so thankful that I hadn't hit my head. I could have been there for days until my folks at the realtor's decided to check on me. Cut up the inside of my palm, nothing serious, but gosh, it hurts. Cindy is all over me. Yuck! Doggy kisses! Yuck.

I wrenched my wrist while taking off the top to the dog house. Going to put on the plastic flaps. "Free Door" is how it is described on the package. Figure that will keep some of the heat inside in the house 'cause the family is NOT coming into the house proper. Serious pain but it will go away. NOT!

After two hours on the clock, it is evident that I can't use my left hand. It is swollen and pain is shooting up my arm. What to do? No insurance. No one to call. Good grief, what a predicament! Here we go again. Find a manager and everyone exclaims over the swelling. I can't even flex my wrist. Of course, the real concern was where did I fall--at Wal-Mart? I should be so lucky. Anyway, get permission to leave. Pick up Epsom Salts and head home. Becoming fully conscious of not having a support system in case of injury, etc. One thing is for certain, I will not get on that ladder to make repairs to the dining room wall. I'm not totally stupid. The pain is so bad now until I am on the verge of tears. Well, heck, doesn't crying help? Soak, pain killer, and stiff drink. Knock me out permanently. I don't care.

Pain wakes me up. Good Lord. What? Saw some Tiger Balm a few days ago. This stuff burns like hell but I'm for trying anything. Well, it took down the swelling. The wrist is still painful but at least I can use it a little bit. And you know I'm scheduled for a full 8 hours this afternoon. More Tiger Balm, pain killer, and I'll pick up one of those hand braces. Pray for me.