2006-11-08 @ 2:35 p.m.
I'm just recovering from a wounded finger. My flipping people off finger. And its been hard to type. I was lifting some broken glass out of my microwave and it decided to jump up and slash me like one of the Jets in "West Side Story". And it bled. And bled. And bled. And I was cooking pork chops and trying not to bleed into the pork chops. And bled. I was actually starting to get a little panicky because this wasn't the first time I nearly lopped off a very important finger.
Once when I was working as a graphic artist...the good old days....I had just had a huge fight with my boss. Yeah, I know its hard to believe I would actually ever raise my voice in anger. But after leaving his office crying, I had
And the person I liked the least in the whole office brought me into the bathroom and had me run it under the faucet. When it kept pumping blood and I was starting to look like
Fortunately my wound this time wasn't nearly that bad. No stitches required. Its just very sore and I'm still typing with a mere, nine fingies instead of 10, and going "fruck" everytime I accidentally hit it. I think some may call me a trooper.
But you can imagine the reactions I got when I went to vote yesterday and my flipping off finger was straight and erect. I mean, Republicans kept averting their eyes thinking I meant it for them. They're so damn sensitive these days.
Unfortunately, I had to drive over across town since I forgot to change my address after that Bush Gets Reelected fiasco. My voting place was at a Catholic school (wouldn't you know) and I had to walk by a nearly life sized statue of Jesus on the way to the voting booths. I mean I don't REALLY know how tall Jesus was. This Jesus was probably about the size of Mickey Rooney. Maybe he was really only that tall or maybe thats so he'll appeal to the grammar school kids. "Like hey Susie, I'm almost as tall as Jesus!!" But as I walked by him, I thought I heard a sound. Did I hear a sound? Did I?
I stopped abruptly and some guy behind me, nearly ran into me. He said, "I think the voting place is a little further down the hall, miss." Damn, those pain pills are making me so spooky. So I went into the school classroom, and Betty Rubble's great grandmother had to look up my name. Fortunately I was still on the books, so I signed the sheet, apologizing for the squiggly signature from the damaged digit and she said it was okay. So I went to go to the voting booth and when I was about 8 steps away from her, she says in a big, booming voice, "SHE'S A DEMOCRAT!"
What a scandal, huh? Kinda like a meth using homosexual walking into Rev. Haggard's church or something....Oh wait....
I couldn't believe she blurted that out though. Isn't that kind of like privileged information? My old neighborhood was probably about 99% Republican. I guess I was sort of like a freak of nature to ol' Betty Rubble. But geeze!!
I also saw the ever delightful "A" yesterday. He was really on a roll. I had had a bad week. Lots of physical pain. Heavy doses of depression. But with one ray of sunshine...a nice e-mail from Handyman thanking me for our date at the art show. He wrote so many nice things about me in the e-mail I was practically weeping and saying "I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy". I'm sure it was purely hormonal, but he now wants to go out on a real date. And I panicked, of course. Had to. That's my job!
I immediately shot off an e-mail to "A" with a Code Orange and lots of sniffling. Because he's not only my shrink, we've also been together for 11 years and he wants my happiness more than even I do, I think. I'm glad I have him, even though yesterday when I got frustrated with something he said, I accidentally called him "Dad"! Gah!
Lastly, I'm just preparing myself for a job interview this afternoon. Over the weekend my mom had had a severe sciatic nerve episode and her friend had told her about this homeopathic stuff called "#49 sciatic relief", you could get at a health food place. So I went and got it for her and it helped her a bit. I took a slurp of it too and had some momentary relief. And we were both impressed, but we didn't know if it was psychological...a product saying it will help and it helped or whether it really helped. So I went and got groceries for my mom since she was still pretty disabled, and when I got back she was up and walking around. It was pretty miraculous!
So what does this have to do with my job interview? Well, I had seen that this health food place was taking applications, so I went back after "A"s appointment and filled out the application, since the people working there kinda look like me....artsy, hippie types. The store is medium sized and filled with health foods, vitamins, organic things, natural cosmetics. They even have a pharmacy. The manager looked at my application and asked me to come in today for an interview at 4 p.m. So we'll see. And I think Jesus told me to get up off my lazy ass yesterday too.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty