A Little LESS Exciting Would Be a Good Thing

Today started out fine, although perhaps I should have been clued in when I put too much sugar in my coffee this morning...I don't remember when (if?) I've done that before. And yet, even though I'm sitting here typing with only 9 of my fingers, (nah, forget that, I think I'll carry on one handed,) I have to admit that the day continued to appear promising. Our realtor came over with an accepted counter offer on one of the houses we are selling (our first home, turned rental) and we got to practice our autographs. I finished reading The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, and came up with a quilt block design for my Sonlight Forums Quilt Block Exchange.

I was on my way to the fabric store (without kids, driving Chris' nice Audi instead of my huge Landcruiser--still sounding like a pleasant day, right?) and had just pulled into the parking lot when a white SUV quickly turned in front of me and stopped quickly. I stopped a bit farther back than I normally would--to make sure I knew what the SUV was doing--when the big thing started quickly backing up straight towards me! Ack! I looked in my mirrors and tried to shift into reverse while laying on my horn good and strong...all to no avail. The crunch was sickening. (like when you go to take a drink of milk and it turns out to be orange juice.) Not a good Doritos-CRUNCH, but the horrible crunch of time and money being wrenched out of your chest unwillingly. The damage looked to be relatively minior until radiator fluid started leaking out.

It was 2pm when I got home, and I hadn't eaten anything all day. I decided to open up a can of soup (because it's AUTUMN--regardless of what Southern California weather thinks) and as I was trying to get a grip on the loosened lid of the can, a gut-wrenching, metallic, slicing pain screamed through the tip of my left index finger. I let a triple scream/gasp loose into the calm Sunday afternoon, held onto my finger so it couldn't decide to leave, and turned to run my finger under the cold water in the kitchen sink. I was shrouded in a thick cloud of pain and tears, weakness and confusion. I couldn't bear to look; I kept hearing the metal ripping through my flesh. My wonderful children sprang into action, got Chris, (he was looking at his poor car,) and the next thing I knew I was all doctored up. I haven't felt a pain quite like that--maybe ever. It was not a shooting sharp pain, nor was it a building ache. It was undefinable, an aura so to speak, that sent echoes throughout my body and sent the tears gushing from my face.

I think that all will be well...but what a price to pay for a little trip to the fabric store! I'm going to aim for a less exciting day tomorrow.