2005-08-29 - 12:03 p.m. Things that you take for Granted: Part 3 The last great frontier of limb destruction, is showering. Not only do you get the joy of having a broken hand, but it�s a requirement that it must smell funky as well. Life becomes so difficult. Get BBQ sauce on your hand. Good luck getting it off. You have to wash one hand WITH one hand. That�s just stupid. I stand there moving the soap around in my palm hoping that this �counts� as clean, meanwhile my other hand is attracting flies. Not only is it filthy and smell, but it makes the rest of cleaning yourself more difficult. A time-told sure-fire way to make anyone grumpy in the morning is to do as follows: Step 1: Have the first step into cleaning yourself, wrapping a plastic bag around your hand which cannot get wet. For if it gets wet, it ruins the brace �healing� your finger. Now I have been given suggestions. One which was to hold my arm out of the shower and I attempt to clean myself. Take a bar of soap, shampoo, one left hand, and one broken hand hanging outside the shower and you have a disaster. Step 1: Shampoo Hair by squeezing bottle with teeth and it tries to be pushing into my left hand. That�s why you need the bag. This weekend�the bag had a hole in it. The bag filled with water. This meant that I had to completely redo the splint, which is basically like having the dog ACTUALLY eat your homework. You are all alone and it�s a complete bitch and a half to do anything. Was I late? Of course. However, my biggest problem this weekend was NOT my broken hand. On Friday the doctor looked at it again, and said I was �coming along�. He upgraded me from �terminally ill� to �ill�. Actually what �coming along� means in real terms is �I don�t want to do an X-ray.� I actually like this doctor a lot. He�s a smart one. You know with school and stuff. But my real problem is drinking. Yes dear friends, drinking. Hard to believe, but this week was a little much. Tuesday: (and you know it�s bad when you start a story on Tuesday) Old High School friend wanted to go out for a drink. We had seven. I ended up eating at Burger King, almost directly because of how annoyed I am with those CokRok commercials. Seven beers into it, my logic went as follows. �I�ll go in there and order a burger, cause then BK will see I don�t want chicken fries.� Wednesday: Knowing that Saturday was the 4th annual barcrawl, this was the �I AM NOT DRINKING TONIGHT� night. I had an Espresso Martini. Why? Because it was on �special.� I was the sucker currently born that minute. Thursday: We went out after class to celebrate a belt test. I didn�t bring my wallet. I had two beers. I was in a bar wearing a workout shirt and these gay little mesh shorts. Of course I was drinking. Friday: Went out to a bar with my friends because it *might* be *one* of the last times we would get to head out before they left Massachusetts. We drank and had a pretty good time. One of my friends ended up getting picked on by this man pack of guys who wanted to start something. We decided that it would be a great idea to get out of there, before anything happened. Saturday: Barkrawl. 6 bars 1 man. All mistake. Lets just put it this way. I had a lot to drink. (less than the previous 4 years since this was the 4th crawl). But at the �Standing Stone,� I had 2 car bombs, 2 Jaeger bombs, and a shot of three wise men. This was a new record in stupidity for me. Jaeger Bomb is Jaeger and Red bull. Car Bomb is A shot of Kahlua, Baileys, and Jameson, dropped into a Guinness, and chugged. And the Three wise men are Johnny Walker, Jim Beam, and Jack Daniels. Just to clear it up, I am not one of the three wise men. (This was the last of the -things you take for granted- entries. Next up is �Gump�s obsessive planning preseason Christmas shopping in mail order cataloge�s�, or �Why my parents told me I didn�t need to buy gifts this year.� ) | |||||||||||
