Measuring Tapes, Band-Aids, and (Almost) Passing Out

My Adventures as of Late

Last night I went to my soon-to-be-residence and measured the window, the walls, the closet. . . and then proceeded to slice my thumb with the tape measure whipping itself a bit too quickly back into its hiding place. Can you say...”Oww,” “Pain,” or how about, “That doesn’t feel too great.” ??? Well, pretty much, it wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t too bad, but you definitely couldn’t call it good. I went into the bathroom, washed it off and wrapped it in Kleenex, which didn’t prove to be that faithful seeing that it’s meant to be soft (which is a nice thing, only just not at this specific moment), which means things leak through it easily. Sorry. Maybe too much information. Anyway. I hurriedly measured the length of the room and the depth of the closet and S L O W L Y pulled the tape measure back foot by foot, so as to not have another slicing of fingers. (Winces!) And I thought a paper cut was bad...After that I proceeded to leave and drove home. Decided NOT to take the freeway, but a back road. I had my right hand on top of the steering wheel, clutching it as normal, while my left, wounded hand, clutched the bottom of the steering wheel with my healthy, four fingers. It was slow, tedious work, trying not to use a thumb, I’ll tell you! All while trying to keep the wrapped Kleenex put. Not a fun experience. I finally reached home and bandaged it up with some Neosporin on top, as if it were some topping to an ice cream sundae. I felt better.

Then, I made cookies. Chocolate cookies filled with a delicious peanut butter filling...only to find out there was no milk left in the fridge. It was a bit depressing. But they were delicious, nonetheless. Afterward, I chugged a huge glass of ice cold water, all the while pretending it was milk. It didn’t really help.

This morning arrived too quickly. I awoke suddenly. I swore it was past the time I should have normally woken up. And on top of that, I still needed to wash my hair and dry it...time was really in a crunch. I jumped out of bed and went into the bathroom to start getting ready. Soon after I didn’t feel so great, but quickly brushed it aside – no time for not feeling well! Go, go, go! I washed my hair, put it up in a twisted towel, like some sort of turban. Checked the time – 25 minutes before the alarm went off. Ugh. All of the sudden, I felt sick. Changed the band aid on my crippled thumb. Then I felt sick again. And hot. Really hot. Felt even worse. Walked into my room and sat in front of the fan and let it blow on my face. No good. Went back into the bathroom, felt awful, got a cold rag and pressed it on my face. Still, nothing. Sat on the floor sick as ever, in only a few minutes! Then, I got the horrible feeling that I have had the misfortune of meeting before: passing out. It was coming. Inevitable. I just knew it. I put my head between my knees...isn’t that supposed to help? Who knows. Anyway, it didn’t help me. I just sat there with the cold rag, hoping, praying that it would go away. My brother was gone at work, my sister in law sleeping...it made me nervous knowing I could have passed out in the bathroom with the door locked (not smart) and nobody would have known! Luckily, in the end, I didn’t pass out. I was shaken by that wake up call. I crawled into the computer room (afraid to stand up too quickly) and wrote work. Realized I should eat something...realized there was no juice, milk or bread in the house. Realized I would have to brave the 6:45 a.m. air and cold to go to the store. Put my soaking wet hair up, got dressed and went to my car. Which decided to take 15 minutes to even START defrosting my windows. Got to the store and purchased orange juice, bananas, grapes, bread and almond m&ms. Headed home. Laid down. Watched You’ve Got Mail while I ate. Felt a bit better after staying still for so long. And now, I’ve decided to share it all with you.

Here’s to feeling better and hoping your day has ran a bit more smoothly than mine. Cheers!

*****

Joe Fox: So what's his handle?
Kathleen Kelly: Uh...
Joe Fox: I'm not going to write him, if that's what you're worried about. You think I'm going to e-mail him?
Kathleen Kelly: All right... NY152.
Joe Fox: N-Y-one-five-two. One hundred and fifty-two. He's... one hundred and fifty-two years old. He's had one hundred and fifty-two moles removed, so now he's got one hundred and fifty-two pock marks on his face.
Kathleen Kelly: The number of people who think he looks like Clark Gable.
Joe Fox: One hundred and fifty-two people who think he looks like a Clark BAR.
Kathleen Kelly: [laughing] Why did I ever tell you this?


Kathleen Kelly: Once I read a story about a butterfly in the subway, and today, I saw one. It got on at 42nd, and off at 59th, where, I assume it was going to Bloomingdales to buy a hat that will turn out to be a mistake - as almost all hats are.

Kathleen Kelly: When you read a book as a child, it becomes a part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does.

Joe Fox: [sitting behind Kathleen in the coffee shop] You know what that hankie reminds me of? The first day I met you.
Kathleen Kelly: The first day you lied to me.
Joe Fox: I didn't lie to you.
Kathleen Kelly: You did too.
Joe Fox: No I didn't.
Kathleen Kelly: Yes you did.
Joe Fox: No, I didn't.
Kathleen Kelly: You did too.
Joe Fox: I did not.
Kathleen Kelly: You did too.
Joe Fox: I did not
Kathleen Kelly: You did too, I thought all that Fox stuff was so charming. F-O-X.
Joe Fox: Well, I didn't lie about it.
Kathleen Kelly: Joe? Just call me Joe? As though you were one of those stupid 22 year old girls with no last name? Hi, I'm Kimberly, hi I'm Janice. Don't they know you're supposed to have a last name? It's like they're an entire generation of cocktail waitresses.
Joe Fox: Look, I'm not a 22 year old cocktail waitress.
Kathleen Kelly: That is not what I meant.

Nelson Fox: I just have to meet someone new, that's all. That's the easy part.
Joe Fox: Oh right, yeah, a snap to find the one single person in the world who fills your heart with joy.
Nelson Fox: Well, don't be ridiculous. Have I ever been with anyone who fit that description? Have you?

Joe Fox: Mr. 152 Felony indictments.
Kathleen Kelly: Mr. 152 insights into my soul !
Joe Fox: Oh! Yeah! No competing with that.