Wrap N’ Go


My visit to the urgent care clinic was a joke. Although it was a hell of a lot cheaper than a trip to the ER, the time it took for someone to see me was just as long as I’d feared it would be. It took almost an hour and a half– and I spent about one hour and fifteen minutes sitting in the little exam room waiting for someone, anyone, to come back.

Since the cut happened last night, it was too late to stitch it. So that’s good. It’ll probably scar quite a bit, though. But I don’t really care because it’s on my knuckle anyway and let’s face it: guys dig chicks with scars. You know it.

I just had them clean it out, wrap it in a bandage that’s almost like a splint and give me a tetanus shot. No big whoop. It was only $25, so that was good. Still…an hour and a HALF?!

Here’s how I know I was sitting in there too long: I honestly almost fainted from sitting on the stupid table’s edge that long with my legs dangling down. I guess it affected the blood flow, and I got that gross lightheaded/ sweaty/ nauseous feeling and had to walk around a little and sit in the normal chair for the rest of the time I waited. “fainting” sounds so dramatic. But that’s what almost happened. I had fun imagining how sorry they’d all feel if they came in to find me in a puddle of blood on the floor, because I’d of course topple over face-first and crack my face on the linoleum. “We should have come in earlier,” they’d say, wiping their guilty tear-soaked eyes with tissues as the ambulance carried me away to the real hospital. “We truly should have been a little more…urgent.”

I’m back at work now, feeling a little frustrated by the challenge of having to type without my middle left finger. I guess I really do use it a lot. Having this ridiculous blue bandage on it helps hold it straight so it has time to begin to close up on its own, and also reminds me to to not try to use that finger. It’s SUPER CONVENIENT for flippin’ people off, though. I don’t even have to do anything! It really stands out. Now this, I like.

So, yesterday I found another house! It’s quite cute. It’s about 400 square feet smaller than the Pretty House(TM), but is also listed at a full $20K cheaper. It’s still in the same neighborhood, generally, which I like. It has no crazy colors…yet. But that’s one of the things I like about it. With the Pretty House, the creativity has already been done for me. This one will require some paint and work from me. Which is sort of cool. It’s a blank canvas, but a solid blank slate with brand-new carpeting, basic paint, and light fixtures. And the roof looks newer too, along with the hot water heater.

The actual street it’s on could be a little iffier than the other one, but not by much. It probably has to do with one place having an HOA and the other, not. Either way, I am putting an offer in on this one ASAP, and whichever one gives me the go-ahead, I’ll take!

(In some ways, this second house moves to the front of the pack simply because of logic. Cheaper, smaller and plenty of room to vomit my own colorful mess/decorating skills all over the place.)

My realtor is having surgery today… she is in remission for breast cancer, it turns out, and last week it appeared that it returned. She’s in for multiple biopsies today, poor woman. I feel worried and sad for her. She’s insisting that tomorrow she will be back to work, first thing in the morning. I just hope she hears good news after they do the tests.

I don’t want to end this on a downer, so I will say that at the end of the day, I plan to write FUCK YOU in big, black letters down the front of this bandage. It will be so much fun to drive home with that. Just go ahead and cut me off, you bastards…I am ready with my response.


4 responses »

  1. Well… at least there’s finally a legit explanation/reason behind your realtor’s lack of action.

    Your visit to urgent care sounds about right, though all I have to compare it to is last November when DH had to go in for stitches thanks to the dog bite. It takes forever. Thank God nobody’s dyin’… right?

    At least this way you can tell guys the scar is the result of you punching the last guy that ticked you off.

  2. Yeah, the urgent care thing is kind of hilarious that way. It should be oxymoron care.

    I DO need to come up with a cooler story about how my finger was injured. One guy at work suggested I tell people it was a rough gang fight. My Mom thinks I should say my brass knuckles slipped at the last second, and I ripped the other dude’s gold tooth (toof?) out. I was considering saying something vague and unpredictable, like: “Oh, I reached into another dimension through the Stargate and let’s just say pulling back wasn’t as smooth as expected.”

  3. I immediately thought about your awesome ability to flip people off with no effort at all. At least your injury has that fun side effect. 🙂

    Now I feel bad thining bad thoughts about your realtor who wasn’t helping you find a house good enough. I am certainly going to hell. For sure.

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