MURPHYS LAW STRIKES AGAIN

Pain is something I’m used to. I have to be careful when I sit Indian style, or to be politically correct “criss cross apple sauce”. Which by the way makes no sense because apple sauce can never criss cross. The cold hurts my bones and turns me into a hobbled old lady. I look like I’m auditioning for a role in the walking dead as a zombie. I’ve tried to get it fixed, ortho consults, injections, anti inflammatories, the works. I’ve given up on the dream of being pain free and walking like a runway model, besides I think the gangsta walk suits me better anyhow.

This passed weekend I watched too many hallmark movies and got inspired to clean my attic out, pull my Christmas decor down, and bake a pie. The pie part was challenging, I had to watch a YouTube video with my daughter on how to beat an egg and then we didn’t know what to do with it… the can didn’t say if we should mix it in the filling or where to put it so I had to contact an expert. My older brother Jo Jo. He has always been the baker/cook of the family and for Christmas one year he surprised me with a ton of cooking stuff I’ve never used until now.

A little too late, might I add. We already screwed up the pie and racked it up on our list of Pinterest fails. We like failure around here, it’s educational. The kiddos went off to their dads as usual on the weekend and I decided I’d get in the attic to try part 2 of my hallmark inspired weekend plans. I forgot my sister had a ton of stuff piled away since she is in the army and needs a place to keep her memories safe. Naturally I went through all her things like any good sister would.

Why are you saving this dinosaur?

After neatly organizing everything into clear totes, I started my ascend to the attic with the remains of my sisters youth. It was heavy. Too heavy. I got halfway up the ladder and gave the big tote a big push and whoosh, my shoulder felt like the devil being soaked in holy water! I dropped the nonsense memorabilia and laid against the wall pretending I didn’t just screw my shoulder up. The pain didn’t stopped, not after ice, not after nsaids and rest and praying. Crikey. Now I’m really in trouble with myself. I am a worker. I don’t simply watch a movie, or sit still for anything. I always have my hands going, knitting, crafting, writing, ect.

My new worst enemy

I decided to show my wound some attention when I realized I couldn’t hold my coffee mug and brush my hair without a stabbing pain. So I went to the dreaded doctor, actually I love my doctor but I hate going. It’s only torn, no break 🙌🏼 ! They said to take the rest of the week off and no lifting but that’s just a guideline… like stuff they have to say when you’re a patient so, I hid the note and went back to work the next day looking like the hunchback of notre dame with ice packs shoved in my scrub top. I’ve mastered the art of looking fine when I’m in pain for years so the next couple or weeks should be cake, fingers crossed.

Being home from work was too boring. I didn’t have anything to do while the girls were in school and I imagined spending sick days being productive, like laying on the couch with the flu while crocheting a blanket and folding laundry here and there but none of that happened. I grazed through the things I pulled down from the attic, reminiscing through memories of my dad. He’d probably make me a peanut butter sandwich if he were here. He always did that when I was out of commission. I remember crying in front of the fridge once in my wheelchair days because I couldn’t reach the milk and felt helpless. He saw me from his office and came to the rescue as always. I miss that old man. I was able to visit a piece of his life over the weekend.

He had great taste in books hahaha

I’ll be revisiting most of his treasures for the next few weeks as I’m not able to get them back in the attic so if I seem suspicious for the next little while it’s because I’m learning secret trades from an old crook hahaha. Talley ho!

The world’s worst ninja

I wanted to be a ninja when I was growing up. My inspiration came from The power rangers, Mortal Combat and anything Jackie Chan related. For some reason I swore up and down I could kick Chuck Norris butt if we ever went to battle. It probably didn’t help that my dad was also a karate guru. He used to tell me that if I ever saw anything ordinary out of the ordinary that it was a bad sign. Like a perfect coke can sitting in the middle of the road or a match box sitting centered in a chair. If you’ve followed my blog post until now you know that I don’t carry a purse because it makes it harder to run if I have to, and I don’t wear jewelry in case I have to fight someone. Thanks dad. I’m a paranoid weirdo who is always prepared for a sneak attack.

This past week I went on a mini vacation. I stayed at an Airbnb and on our last night we returned late at night to find a package on the front porch of the cottage we were staying in. It looked perfect. Too perfect. We all sat in the mini van staring at it and discussing how this package looked suspicious. Against the protest from the other passengers I got out of the van to inspect the box… I had trained my entire life for this, if Chuck Norris was in that box, we were going to throw down and get this internal childhood fantasy over with. There were several steps up to the porch and while slowly making my ascend I noticed a hole in the side of the box. I thought to myself, this must be where they’ve put the laser. I needed to jump over it, trust me I’ve seen this in movies. I jumped as high as my chicken legs would take me and landed right where the laser hole was crafted. In my defense only people who do parkour daily could’ve made that jump successfully, it was an upward incline so there’s that. Luckily, no explosions set off. I took out my flashlight and peaked through the hole to find a box filled with q tips… that’s even more suspicious if you ask me.

Who orders a box of q tips this big? I nudged the package with my foot. Nothing. My kids were giggling from inside the van. They laugh now but I guarantee as they get older and discover the wicked ways of the world they too will be ready to fight an inanimate object. I wonder if the Lord was watching me the same way people watch cats play with boxes. I’m crossing my fingers hoping the Airbnb host didn’t have cameras set up. We had already discussed the conspiracy of the google home box hiding behind the couch and with this box interrogation, I couldn’t imagine what the host would think replaying the events that went on in that house. Just know Chuck wouldn’t have stood a chance.