6:30am:
On the drive to work this morning, I'm sitting at a stoplight, getting ready to turn onto I-65, listening to Yo La Tengo (can't stop listening to the goodness of YLT). In one flash of a moment, my whole vehicle is lurching forward, cds flying across the passenger seat and to the floor. This can't be happening.
7:30am: I pull onto the interstate. My dad has just jumped the battery to my car, which died while sitting with the radio and lights and heat on in the cold. The lady who hit me is sitting in her daughter's car. Her vehicle is being lifted onto a tow. Green puddles of coolant and plastic parts are scattered across the pavement.
8am: I walk into work and check myself in as a patient. I feel very silly.
11:30am: 20,000 xrays and about 3 and a half hours (of ridicule by my co-workers) later I head home with a neck foamy thing (which I suppose is to keep my pretty head attached) and some painkillers.
Noon: I deposit myself on the couch.
Sometime later: What is this show? I've not watched television in so long. I'm not sure what I'm seeing...dear god...how did this end up on the lifetime channel?
Sometime after that: Where's the ice cream? I've got legs.
Top Chef: (a bit of lucidity in the madness of culinary rivalry) No Foam!
Rebec-co: Stops by after a trip to visit family in Alabaster. We form a band.
The Vicodins
Wendy Whiplash
Catatonic Candi
I'll be on the couch all day tomorrow. Awesome.
Send me a line.
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