In Coffee Spoons

WHY why do I do this every single fucking morning

and go out the door and say hmmmm it's cold I should go back and put some leggings on under my jeans and then I say oh it's not that cold I'll be fine

and then I get back and my legs are freezing and then the goosebumps and the redness every single fucking time and the itching like mad and the scratching and the itching

every FUCKING morning you STUPID motherFUCKER

Easter Sunday started out as a really nice day; not warm, but sunny and bright, with the ice finally melting.

Me: Hurrah for spring! I think I will go for a walk to celebrate the much-anticipated end of winter!

Michigan: HAHAHA FUCK YOU.

Halfway through my walk, it was cold and snowing.

Which is also about the time my foot the one, I swear to god the one single miniscule *one*, patch of ice on the entire dirt road, and I fell.

And landed with my full weight on my left wrist.

Awesome.

I'm waiting to hear back from the doctor about my x-rays. It's either a major sprain or a minor hairline fracture. Hey, maybe both!

In a brace now. It doesn't hurt at all if I hold it straight, but hurts like a motherfucker if I try to bend it either way. Actually, I'm on Darvocet right now, so I could probably bend it with a brick on top of it and not feel anything.

I pried my ring off when my fingers started to swell up, and not wearing it feels very weird. I've worn it since I was...19? Something like that.

My right hand does not like to help out. Stubborn bastard.

This is completely unrelated, but have you ever heard a song that's really bad, like embarassingly bad, but it gets stuck in your head and you can't stop listening to it? Yeah, see below.

FUCK YOU TOO, WINTER.

The cats have cabin fever.

Sweeney goes in and out every ten minutes, hoping the weather has changed. The right side of my body is cold from inching the door open and closed.

Charlotte tears around the house chasing Malingo. And she's taken to burrowing under the rug and hiding her toys there, so she can burrow under the rug later and catch them.

Malingo is destroying everything in sight. Everything is a cat toy except, of course, his cat toys. He's particularly fond of shredding paper, so he is banished from my room a lot.

He's also banished from my room because despite my wrapping my latest art project in newspaper and hiding it, there are charcoal and pastel marks all over my floor. And shredded newspaper.

Tipper is just sleeping a lot. You know, like she does every other season.

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