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Sunday, August 21, 2011

The Injury Report

There are a lot of bumps and bruises in this business, that's for sure.  I often think of the days where I used to have long pretty legs and arms that were un-scathed.  I miss those days. I present to you Exhibit A:

                  Yes, that's the New Orleans Saints locker room, if you're wondering.  WHO DAT!

But now, after being in units and being bitten by mosquitos, gnats, ants, and wasps-- after getting tan-lines in various unappealing places (now I know how Darrell Sheets always has the sunglass ring around his eyes)  and after having bruises and scrapes from moving furniture up and down stairs and in and out of tight spaces, I now look like a poster child for some type of domestic violence advertisement.  (Seriously, kids, don't ever hit anyone).   In the beginning, my friends were so shocked by my appearance that they'd gasp and say "what happened to you?"  and I would usually just reply "Brian beats me" - totally joking (again, domestic violence is not a joke, kids),  and they usually believe me (the really sad part)... and we move on.

I present to you, Exhibit B:



My case here though isn't that my storage business partner beats me-- he's the best guy ever.  But he's totally clumsy and always in a rush and does a really horrible job of moving furniture into me whenever possible.   I keep trying to make the case for him to SLOW DOWN.

A couple of weeks ago, we were in a unit that we got for $180 that was FULL of antique furniture.  It had so much antique furniture, we had to make about 8 trips in the van to get it all.  We also had only 8 hours (not the usual 48) to do so. At some point a large piece of furniture was dropped on my foot -- I really do think *I* did it  (I can't blame Brian ALL the time), and we were in an awful rush for good reason (because we were under a time crunch) but I split my toenail open and it was quite gross.   But, Brian didn't feel sorry for me at all!   The poor guy at U-Haul brought me bandaids and water and towels and Brian was just giggling at me.   Even when I posted the picture on facebook, he said it didn't look that bad.  Exhibit C:

Brian TwoDat Monk You downloaded that from a google pic....you big cry-baby!!!...;)
June 27 at 7:13pm ·



So, I'm getting more and more fed up with the injuries and even though I try to be more and more careful (not wearing heels or open toed shoes as MUCH, for example...  a girl has to be a girl sometimes!)  -- injuries still come.  If you read my last post about our $1000 cedar wardrobe you know what a good piece it is, but you may not know at what price it came--  Brian (he did it this time)  stepped on my foot with such force that he BROKE MY TOE.   Yes, you heard me correctly, broken.  It snapped like a toothpick under a giant or a skyscraper at the hands of King Kong.   And instead of apologizing, or trying to help, he just told me I was crazy and it wasn't broken at all.   I finally convinced him that it was broken because of its odd shape and color and non-movement,   Exhibit D:




and he finally consented it was broken.  But that I was being a baby.  Now, you must know, that Brian himself broke his toe several months ago... not in the line of duty (like me) but on a freaking SLIP AND SLIDE,  and whined about it for weeks.  He even refused to play beach volleyball saying that the "pain was too much to bear."  Unreal.   But, I get the same injury, inflicted not by a fun time in the deliciously appealing pool, but while on the job-- and I'm a baby.  

I convinced him finally (the silent treatment)  to tape up my toe... and,  I can't even describe to you what an atrocity that was.  You just have to see it for yourself:   Exhibit E:

Toe Woes Video



Oh, and one more thing.  When I pulled off the tape-- it took skin with it!   Exhibit F:



So, the moral of the story, guys...  be careful if you're in the storage business.  It's dangerous.    Always carry a first aid kit, and make sure you have a partner that knows how to tape you up-- or you're going to look like a victim whether you want to or not!

Thank goodness I have that locker filled with designer clothes to make me feel better!


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