wook77 | (no subject)

Snippets of conversations from my day so far:

Backstory to this first one... I fell down the steps at work the other day. Banged up both my knees, my right ankle, left wrist and cut up my right thumb. Add to it that I also spilled hot gravy on myself on the same day and now have that splotchy burnmarks on me. Then, my sister thought it would be funny to bite me and so I have this string of random cuts and bruises on my arm (long story there that I won't get into but it really was sort of funny at the time). I also had a small and minor mishap with a ficus tree so I have a few scratches on my face.

In other words, I'm fairly beat up right now. So, I go into "my" Circle K this morning and here's the first conversation:

Circle K Truck Driver (hereafter known as "D"): Been awhile, how're you?
Me: Good, thanks. You must've changed your schedule.
D: Yeah, we changed it around a bit but glad to see you.
Me: *reaches to fill cup with diet coke and exposes bruising and scratches on arms* Good to see you to!
D: *seriously serious* You can get out, you know.
Me: Bwa?
D: It's never too late to get out. If you need help, I'm here.
Me: Thanks but I still have to pay for this.
D: When you're ready, get help before it's too late.
Me: *confused* Well, there aren't too many people in the store right now so I don't think there'll be a long line but thanks.
D: *looks around conspiratorally and then leans in real close* You never struck me as the type
Me: *still confused* I always drink diet coke. Have since I was like 8 or 9.
D: No, the type to let a man smack you around.
Me: *gapes*
Me: *mouth opens and shuts and opens and shuts*
Me: Huh?
D: If you need him taken out, I'll do it. No one should beat up a little lady like you.
Me: You think I have some man beating up on me? *mouth gapes again while brain rushes to catch up*
D: Well, just look at you.
Me: I fell down the steps.
D: That's what they say at first. Then it's "I fell into a doorknob" and then it's broken bones. Stop making excuses for him.
Me: But I'm not dating anyone. I really fell down the steps. I'm a klutz, see? There's this hole in the porch leading into my office and my shoe got stuck but don't worry, the shoes are ok!
D: *is le sad* Oh honey
Me: No, really! I fell! I have my workman's comp claim stuff right here in my purse! *fumbles through purse and pulls it out* See?
D: *blushes*
Me: *giggles*
D: So you're really not dating anyone?
Me: Nope
D: Oh. Oops.
Me: No worries, thanks for looking out for me, I really appreciate it and I'll think of you if I ever do let some dude beat me up.
D: Can I buy you that drink to make up for it?
Me: Nope, it's all good.
Me: *pays for drink and then gets in car*
Me: *giggles*

I really need to stop being so klutzy.

Second conversation of the day:

Me: *drops timeclock on hand, causing a very nice and very large gash down the side of my hand* Bloody Buggering Barons of Bickleford!!!!! [I really said that. My boss hates cursing with a passion. She has a "swear jar" and I've already contributed 10 bucks to it at a quarter an offence.]
Boss: Whatcha do now?
Me: I might've dropped a timeclock on my hand and it might be bleeding really bad and I might need someone to bandage it.
Boss: *bandages my hand and then leaves, not saying a word*
Me: *pings people to whinge about the pain in my hand and the silliness of the injury*
Boss: *pops back in and takes my scissors with no explanation*
Me: Um, [Boss]?
Boss: I cannot trust you with sharp objects. The next injury you have, I'm taking your pens.
Me: I get to keep my stapler, right?
Boss: It's going too.
Me: *woe*

fiona_fawkes: You need safety scissors and those pencils that they give to kindergartners.

janicechess: You need a staple-less stapler

ficlette: ZOMG ARE YOU OK *SPAZZES*. You aren't missing any limbs or dying or anything are you? I'll be here, go get it taken care of!!!! *PANICS* [ok, so I took a bit of artistic license with the chat on this one]

I see who my friends are *pouts*.

Thus, I declare this do-over week. This entire week has been filled with injuries and klutziness and crap.

I came home last night and my mum told me my sister is visiting next weekend. Which sister (as I have 2)? The older sister that thinks she's my mother and, because she's 7 years older than me, smarter than God herself. Oh happy happy joy joy, enforced family bonding for a sodding week!!one !!!!eleventy! SIGN ME UP!

Then, SLL has asked me eight times just today about this ONE sodding project. Now, I could understand the multiple questions if there are different questions every time. But there aren't. It's the same question. Every. Time. I'd try to kill her but with my injury record this week, I'll put it off as I might take out an eye or something.

I'll just be over here in the corner trying desperately to avoid injury so I can get my special scissors back.

In better news, however, this was a good mail week!!!!!!!

I got this t-shirt from

janicechess which I have worn with loads and loads and loads of pride! (I've seriously worn it 3 times and it badly needs washed but then it'll lose its new t-shirt smell)

Then, yesterday, I go home and there's a postcard from london. I think, hey, I don't know anyone in Lon... OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!!!! I squeeed and danced around my house and my mother thought I was insane. Then I tripped over a dog and she realised that I was still the same person, just a lot happier. SooooOOOOO!!!! OMG, Thank you, you two!!!! (I'll leave it anonymous unless you want to fess up but you know who you are)