What did you do to your hand?
The short answer is “I punched a wall”, the long answer is a little more embarrassing and a little (okay, a lot) less indicative of anger problems.
On a totally nondescript Friday evening, after a productive (I think?) day of work, I was set about to sit down to some episodes of “The Flash”.
“Hm, as satisfying as that would be, this could be better…” I thought, as I remembered the few cider mill donuts my husband and I had frozen for later appreciation, as after purchasing them and eating around 6 in a sitting, I didn’t think I could eat another donut in the time before it went stale.
Quite excited about the prospect of my evening alone with the dog, I hummed as I put the donut in the microwave, and jetted off to use the restroom before hunkering down.
Like a malfunctioning T.A.R.D.I.S, I misjudged where I was in time and space, and while most of my body made it into the hallway, my right fist collided with the corner of the wall.
Everything suddenly painful and blurry, I cradled my hand as I stumbled into my bedroom, flicking on the light to see if there was any damage. The light didn’t turn on. A little delirious, I remembered my husband buying remote plug-ins for “easier” light control. This had already happened before where I turned on the light for it to NOT turn on because you’re supposed to use ONE. TINY. REMOTE. for all rooms, and thus I had unplugged his device. Apparently he plugged it back in.
I fell to my knees to remove the obstacle, suddenly awash in hysterical laughter as I realized I was going to take this stupid thing and hide it so he couldn’t use it again and then I’d be free to use the light as normal. For some reason, this was very VERY funny and I laughed and cried and rolled on the floor until the pain subsided. I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard since the first time I saw the Goldfish commercial about biting their heads off.
After many minutes of this, I came back to reality, I stood up, grabbed ibuprofen and ice for the swelling and sat down to try to resume the evening I had planned.
Sadly, the donut did not taste as satisfying as one would hope to compensate for a broken thumb.
Also : cider and donut photo credit to Joaynna Cook Photography– Thanks Jo!)
Update: What does this mean?
- I’m a little cynical when I think about donuts now
- I think I’m opting to NOT go through with the surgery then 3 months of rehab and will hope that my ligament stays attached to my bone
- I can still function just with some limitations, but really,
- I think this could have been a call from the universe to say “slow down, stop with the frenetic motion, and just do what is most important.” Which is? Getting back to making content, and only working with people and projects and actions I truly love. Then disregarding or delegating the rest. Enough picking cabbages!