Ouch

This morning I was walking down the (not very big or impressive) hill to my car, thinking to myself, "Oh, it figures, there's a traffic jam blocking me in, I wonder if they'll get it sorted before I have to get involved to help push or something," when my feet both flew out from under me with no warning. I came down, as did my coffee mug (whose lid stayed on reasonably well, but who sprayed coffee hither and yon) and the outgoing mail I'd been carrying (the aforementioned hither and yon).

I heard people calling out asking if I was alright from their various vantage points of shoveling or spectating the traffic jam (the road was so slippery that a person was stuck half in and half out of their driveway, unable to get enough purchase to make any significant progress in one direction or another) and I wallowed up to a sitting position, feeling foolish, compelled to reassure them I was even though my brain was being flooded with a number of increasingly panicked nerve reports on my hand, and utterly confused. I looked to my left and right hoping that I would see something to give me a little navigational input as to why I was so confused or what I should do next and sure enough, saw my glasses lying a little more than halfway across the road - oh, dear, I need to mention that I wasn't on the sidewalk, because it's very inconsistent in terms of snow cover, and is often icier and more slippery than the road, and then you might have to wade up and over a berm to get to your car, so it's easier to just walk in the street, particularly as low traffic as ours is.

So, back to the story: the glasses are lying a little more than halfway across from me, and I dimly hear that the driveway car has made it in and the car behind it has started moving...why this car decided to start up when a person was sitting in the street is beyond me, but I, fearful that they would run over my glasses, leapt to my feet for a dash out to grab them. This brave leap instantly became a gross and terrible fall to my knees as my feet went out from under me with no warning...again. At this point, I gained a measure of respect for the degree of iciness and the magnitude of slipperiness, and instead crawled out to the glasses. The car had braked when it saw that the person who had merely been sitting dangerously close to their path had decided to soldier crawl all the way into their path, and became stuck.

Glasses clutched in hand, I turned around and crawled back to my scattered possessions, and sat up to inspect them. "Are they broken? They must be!" I thought, and answered myself, "How can I tell if they're broken?" "I don't know, try putting them on and see if it works." It did work. I then collected my coffee mug and mail and tottered up to my feet and over to my car, re-assuring people who continued to ask that yes, I was indeed alright, offering lamely, "I just needed my glasses!" Once I safely got to the car, I tossed my stuff in and got the brush out to start clearing off the snow and what-not, whimpering the whole time because my hand felt so terrible. I was initially quite convinced I would need x-rays and casts and who knows what else, but it seems that it might just be an epically jammed or sprained thumb, and there's not much they can do for that that I know of. I have whiplash, and my knee is bruised and skinned, and my thumb just sucks, and looking back on the bafflement and confusion I felt in the road, I think I came pretty darn close to knocking myself out in that first fall. And I didn't even get a lousy t-shirt.


However, my weekend was KILLER, despite sleep deprivation, life's many thousand little annoyances, and whatever else I can think of to complain about, because I saw R&J and Dying City. Both good. R&J was the most fun that I've ever gotten out of Romeo and Juliet, seriously. It was way sexy and way funny and I felt much more emotionally invested than I've ever been able to in all that overwrought teenage drama. Plus the tickets were free because I identified "Rock Around The Clock" when they played a snippet on the radio. LULZ, as Josh would say. Dying City was considerably less fun, except for all the fun you'll have comparing themes and topics with your theatre-mates afterward! I'm all about the various manipulations we see in the show, but there are lots of good, sound, valid points to make besides that. Highly recommend both and there's only one weekend left, so get off your ass. If you go to R&J, you may see me, whooping it up.