Damn that enormous cat!

He probably puked in your room somewhere for delaying his dinner – and rightly so.

Humans… yeesh.

So a few weeks ago, when my horse ran past me too close and I heard that same SNAP and was in extreme pain, after I was able to hobble the couple hundred feet into the house, by means of fences and such, I told my husband I should go in because it “might” be broken. They did x-rays, and nope, no break. Stay off it and come back in a week when if ti’s not better. The next morning I get a call from the radiologist who says HECK YES it’s broken and they rushed me through CT scans and into an ortho appt that very day.

So, Uh, yeah, I understand that “I broke my leg, you’ll have to finish the laundry” gene. Are we related?? And, for what it’s worth, I would have cleaned up the blood on the floor too because 1) wet blood is extremely slippery and 2) dried blood is nearly impossible to clean up!!

Oh, and the whole keeping it dry in the shower thing SUCKS. I eventually settled on just pulling a plastic bread bag down over my hand and arm and then holding that hand upright like some really lame version of the Statue of Liberty. Meanwhile, I contort my left arm in to strange angles to scrub myself down with that.

And then there’s the fact that apparently I have grown very accustomed to wiping my ass with righty. You wouldn’t believe you ridiculously difficult it is to try and do such a menial task with your other hand. Honestly, mongoloids the world over would have full right to laugh at my bathroom habits at the moment.

Although naturally, I blame your lack of planning. I recall a group of us sitting around my kitchen table, each of us saying “this is what I plan to write next” and Cliff goes “oh fuck that, I’ll just blog about whatever I get angry at next” — see, if you’d been planning to rant about football or crackwhores, your finger would be intact. But God’s sitting up there going “oh! so you want to write a blog post, eh?!?! I’ll give you a blog post!!”

Because, um, yeah, God is a vindictive guy for absolutely petty reasons “how dare you blog so flippantly! you will pay1!!” Perhaps it was actually Bast, the cat god.

I’m glad you didn’t go and chop off the whole finger… although for the record that would have been a cooler story. “see this finger? oh, you don’t see it? That’s because it was taken as a sacrifice to the cat god! mutherfucker!!!! YEAHAHHAH!!AA NINJA-ATTACK!”