Sunday, July 16, 2006

THE pINKIE fINGER OF (IS) dOOM(ED)

From Live Journal May. 3rd, 2006 09:25
pmmood: sore

Yesterday I had a fixture pop out of the wall and catch my pinkie finger pulling it down until it was almost independent of the hand.This hurt and caused immediate swearing (i was in the backroom away from little ears) and almost as immediate swelling. I emerged into the light of day (ok the light of the front of the store there was no light of day it was snowing-sideways!!)I took an antiinflammitory and a tylonol. I keep both with me as i am in fact, an accident constantly happening.

Needless to say the childproof cap cause more difficulties than i would like to recount and am a bit embarassed to say i had to retreat again to the backroom for to say a few curse words i had forgottten earlier and repeat a few of my favourites).After a quick doping I went to fill out an incident report which needs to be filled out by hand! (!!) Everything else is done by computer, ever-ry-thing!! They took out our fax line as , again, everything is supposed to be sent by e-mail.So why am I trying to fill out the form BY HAND?! huh? **doi**

It was trying to fill out the form that lead me to a stunning realization. It was my knitting finger. Yes I am a very odd/self taught knitter I hold the right needle with my pinkie. (Insert photo here if i ever figure out how.The gravity of the situation became even more , um, gravelly when after icing it it still got bigger and showed traces of freezer burn. A call to walk in (which is within walking distance but remember what i said about sideways snow??) i sat in the waiting room with knitting, unable to knit. I sat through 3 musak versions of the macarena,( somethings do not need to be redone on the panflute) I get taken into the other waiting room where there is mersifly techno piping in form the phone (the dr in question owns a nightclub in town, he is pretty cool, although the tube sock and burks thing, not so in love with).

Sitting there i realize my pinkie is now it's normal size..crap.So I get asked if i want x-rays and i point out i have to go to work but could you at least check if its broken. Apparently last time he did this when i dislocated my thunb and he wiggled it i hit him. I had forgotten about that. In retrospect it makes him being nice to me that much nicer as he is my dad's doctor. He hands me some thing for pain that I take, should have mentioned the other stuff i took, but i am sent back into the nasty weather sans ride as they hadn't yet had lunch and were whining.

I got about 1/2 a block before i duck into fabricland, home of berroco yarn and refuge from a slushy rain that is somehow going up my nose. I fiddle with thier sample examine all the colours and recieve no damn help at all. I don't even get a hello. Now considering I am looking at product next to the cash desk where there are 3 employees flocked with weather that pretty much screams there will be no customers all day looking at stuff that is $15-$19 bucks a ball and would take about $100 bucks to make a sweater for a super skinny person (hi mom) you would think that just saying the word "Hi1" would occur to at least one of these mental midgets wouldn't you? (bad service bugs me, stupid peoplr more so, stupid people giving bad service-there are no words).

Still i am in love with the deluxe suade and am tempted. However it would cost me half my summer clothing budget to get enough to make a tanktop out of and while the yarn budget outstrips the clothing budget i also refuse to encourage such bad service.It is only when i get back to work and can barely move from lethargy that I think that i should have told the dr. that i had already self medicated or saved the other pills for later. I got very strange manic but with no energy to move. No one notices. Apparently i was well within my normal range of skewered.

After work i tried to knit mother's day is just over a week I have a tank top to make. Plus dad watched 3 hours of american news plus daily and , well i make him watch colbert, if i can not knit my brains would dribble out my ears after the first hour. So cast on a big needle garter stitch scarf, owie. i cast on a tank top in much smaller needles, no go. i cast on socks, no way in poo-dom can i knit socks like this, so i grab my skirt in hell in progress. Its too small for me (i am in a constant state of dillusion about the size of my hips) but i still am working on it. The skirt from hell has an itsy bitsy guage and tiny needles and tight stitches, and it did not hurt. Insanity.Today, however, it hurt again so before work i ran to the clinic where he taped my 2 fingers together saying i did too much yesterday and there was a difference between exercising it and what i did so my finger is grounded until it learns moderation. There was no cool tape, no batman, no barbie, not even a dora. No cool colour tape just white. I was given diclogel which is yellow and sticky and smells of burnt teeth and pine. When i say sticky i mean it. All day things have been sticking to me, paper, pens, small children. But i can knit a skirt and it doesn't seem so bad. Until I remember it's 10 days till mothers day and i have to make a whole top. Crap.

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