May 17, 2005
It Took Me Two Days To Type This.
Hell Week is now
Jolene returned to the Dirt Company this week, looking rested and
radiant from nine glorious days of vacation.
When she walked through the door on Monday morning, I had to resist the
urge to leap from my chair, hurl myself into my arms and
... leave ... me ...
again." Instead, I
simply welcomed her back
-- "You were missed,"
I said, flashing her my big twinkly World's Best Administrative Ass
smile -- and I gave her a nutshell account of the
previous week. [One Lunch Seminar, four Soil
two last-minute/ quadruple-urgent/ bazillion-dollar proposals
... one minor Meltdown Moment on Thursday
afternoon: "The Young Prince was in fullblown *Peel Me A
Grape* Mode," I explained
... plus a dead fax line and a couple of spectacular office
machine failures, requiring expensive emergency service calls.]
"And then there's this," I said. And I reluctantly held up my
Jolene took one look at my hand -- at the miles of
gauze and adhesive bandage circling my thumb and three
fingers -- and rolled her eyes in
have you done to yourself?" she
I plucked self-consciously at the big wad of gauze around my thumb, and
smiled a tight embarrassed
smile. "I had a little ... um
accident over the weekend," I
replied. And I told her the story: about how I was cooking
macaroni and cheese on Sunday afternoon -- the good
old-fashioned HOMEMADE kind of macaroni and cheese, not the pukey
prefab stuff from a box ...
... and how
noodles on the back burner of the Ugly Pink Stove, while melting cheese
and flour on the front burner ...
... and how I removed
boiled noodles from the back burner, once they were cooked, and dumped
them into a colander in the kitchen sink, then returned to stirring
and milk ...
... and how I noticed
that the back
burner had been knocked ever-so-slightly askew, at some point in the
macaroni-making process, so I absent-mindedly reached over to
straighten it with my bare fingers ...
... forgetting that I had just removed
a BOILING POT OF WATER from that burner less than fifteen
"The doctor says it's only a second degree burn,"
finished limply. [I didn't mention that the ER doctor who treated my
burn was the same ER doctor who treated my stoopid infected toe last
month ... and my broken ribs last year ... and my back injury, the year
before that.] "Plus," I added, "I can type almost as well with my left
hand as I
can with my right." And I wiggled the fingers of my undamaged
left hand in demonstration.
may be a klutz
... but by god I'm an AMBIDEXTROUS klutz.
Jolene just shook her head a little -- what else
is there to say in the face of such relentless clumsiness?
really? -- and then she
hung up her coat and shuffled down the hallway toward her
... already beginning to look a little frayed
I figure that by the
end of the week I'll have her looking just as
exhausted and beat-up as *I* do.
to throw a rock?