||[Sep. 7th, 2006|08:59 am]
Here's where I take a few minutes from the panic to re-group. As usual a list of a million things to do this week before the weekend begins and what, I've gotten like 6 done. The good news is I have managed to order both bras and a new top mechanism for my pressure cooker, so the danger of either my boobs or beef stew exploding and taking out innocent bystanders has been greatly minimized. |
I've recovered from the bee in the eyeball this past weekend, but am concerned that since opening weekend at Maryland was the gnat up the nose and this weekend a bee in the eyeball...what's this weekend, harpy eagle in my ear?
(The worse part of both of them was that moment of inevitability. You see it happening...the gnat dancing dangerously close to your nostril, the bee heading straight for your eye...and first you think "oh, no way"...and then you think "you've got be be f-ing kidding" and then you think "don't breathe" or "duck, you idiot" but your head's so busy with internal vocalization (because after all, isn't talking about it better than doing something?) that you can't spare a neuron to save yourself. Then, wham, you feel the gnat sucked in and heading down your throat, the bee slamming at whatever mph they travel at, headfirst right into your cornea and it's just too damn late. And no, the bee didn't sting me -- because that would have been dramatic and elicted much sympathy, coddling, ooohs, poor baby's, perhaps a lie-down, some good drugs. Remember, I only have stupid, odds-defying, slightly embarrassing things happen to me. I suppose I shouldn't complain -- but I DO fear escalation this weekend. And I'm wearing panties with a crotch in 'em, just in case those skinks get any ideas.