Well, this is it, post number 200! And what a sad little post it will be. Prepare yourself for the crushing disappointment. But I think I see a bit of crepe paper and a new years horn and the sound of three hands clapping.
I'll start with the crunchy floor which might explain the broken toe, but that could be a stretch, since I have no recollection of an actual thing I stepped on with my morning bare feet, to race to the toilet to pee. I must have fallen asleep before emptying my bladder last night. So, in racing to the bathroom this morning, I broke my little toe of my left foot. Every injury to my ankle or foot has been this clumsy left foot. This is, at least, the third time I broke that damn left little toe. So the rest of the run was a hobble, accompanied by much moaning and swearing. And I keep retracing ,what I imagine, was my route through this small house--really only one big room, save for the bathroom greenhouse combo--more on that later. There are several possible toe breaking obstacles. I might take pictures to illustrate the hazards of cramming too much big furniture into a tiny space.
Then there is the situation of the recurring morning headache. (Fuck you Petro, I will not, so just shut up.) Before I can even sit all the way up I am grabbing the 800mg ibuprofen and opening my throat as wide as it will go, to swallow, with lots of stale, warm water, that first horse pill of the day. I'm beginning to think the morning migraine is a result of oxygen deprivation during the night because I have sleep apnea. And the solution to this problem is an oxygen tank in the closet. A few hits before bed, and a couple upon awaking. (Shut up you little bastard. I will not, will not, will not.) Anyway, I'm sitting on the toilet with a broken little toe and a roaring headache, and the floor is crunchy. That's for starters.
I don't remember if I told you this, but a couple of weeks ago or three, I had a sore middle finger... Ahh, it's coming back to me. I did write about it. Well, it might be karma after all. And it's definitely staph. And it's back! Same finger--left middle finger. That's the arm that you rest with your bent elbow out the open window, hand in the car. Just in case you need to flip someone off. Honestly I gave it up years ago. Oh, you have air conditioning? Well fuck me! I had no idea. My car was new in 1986. It had air conditioning then, heat too. But I digress. I'm thinking I should just go to the insta-care again, where three or four weeks ago I went to get it lanced, and where they got the culture to determine what kind of infection it was. Too convoluted for you? Well, try to keep up, please. You should have been able to tell from the title of this moan that you were in for a bit of complaining. You want artful complaining? You try it with a broken toe and a headache, and now the fucking swamp cooler is starting to overheat. I must get some small motor lube for it's two motors. Fuck me again. Maybe one of my neighbors has a bit they'll loan me. As I recall you put a bit of oil in all the little round holes in all those hard to reach places--which is why the handyman removed the entire motor prior to lubing last year, just before he told me he was retiring and stopped taking my calls. I do not remove it from is tight little space, but spray it's holes with WD 40, and listen to the growing whine. If the dog starts looking pained, I know it's starting to reach unbearably high pitch and about to burst into flame, and must be shut down for at least an hour. Well, a half hour is about all I can take today. On top of everything else it's a scorcher. Must I go on?
Vacuuming is out of the question.
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