whoops

last monday morning was interesting.

well. maybe not interesting. maybe gross. there - you have been warned. those of the weak of stomach, read no further!!

we had a little cigar box mounted to the wall of our bathroom. the door open up. in the box we keep little bottles of bathroom things, like deodorant. at the time of this incident, there was a tiny nail which, were the box not mounted to the wall, would help keep the lid closed. this has been the set up for nearly six years and two moves. i keep trying to remember to remove the tiny useless nail.

i, being of sound mind and general clumsiness, somehow let the door swing closed on my hand while reaching for deodorant. ouch! i quickly examined said hand, and it seemed unscathed. whew! somehow i missed that nail! need to remove it...

so i proceeded to my bedroom to get dressed, reached up for something and OH MY GOOD BLOOOOODDDDDD!

then i woke up on the floor. with a very bad headache and a very bloody hand.
turns out i did not escape the nail. it was just a tiny, tiny puncture wound, but i think it hit a vein. i'm fine, really, and i have a lovely bruise a week later.

5 whole years!

chris and i JUST celebrated the ol' 5 year anniversary. (our kissaversary is actually around easter, and it will be 9 years i think this spring, lest you think we were like just getting to know eachother or something!)

we celebrated! we put on clean clothes, went out to eat at a restaurant, came home, and watched back to back to back episodes of 'battlestar galactica' and went to bed 10 (so late!).

man, we know how to party.

it might be a bad sign when...

you are venting to your therapist (is it venting? or is it therapy...?) about your job, and she suggests you need to write a book.
because it is that harrowing/unusual/typical/funny?

i'm just sayin'. that seems like a bad sign.

dinner

Chris emailed me earlier today:
"Any foods I need to put in the dinner tonight?"

First, it is awesome he is cooking dinner. He's gotten really good at it - his baking really is stellar, too. (And considering I can;t bake it is a good thing someone in the house can make tasty flaky cinnamon rolls....mmmmm....gluten free cinnamon rolls....)

Anyway. I responded in poem form. I thought you may enjoy (I'm sure Chris did: his response was "K.")

"Hm.
Dig around in the fridge.
Open all containers. Open all bins. Open all drawers.
Explore contents.
Identify suspect things.
Put suspect things in the trash.

Line up not-quite suspect, but possibly questionable items.
Use these items."