We are less than three weeks into the new year, and I can already predict that if I'm going to die, it will likely be this year. A morbid thought, to be sure, but given the turmoil I've experienced over the preceding few weeks, I can only guess that as time passes me by, this year, things can either get better. Or something will happen and I'll simply cease to exist anymore. I'm not a religious man by any means, but I pray that the latter won't happen.
From the moment I slipped on the ice on Boxing Day, smashing my elbow on the hard frozen ground in the process, I've been met with shit storm after shit storm.
"But Jeff," you say, "Boxing Day was in 2011. How can this attribute to your bad luck in oh-twelve?" Let me tell you friends.
The stitches that were placed in my elbow to repair the split, had pierced one of my veins, unbeknownst to me, and my doctor when she removed my stitches earlier THIS year. This resulted in a sudden evacuation of blood from my arm. And not just a drop or two, but a light drizzle, which resulted in the small examining room resembling something like a scene from CSI.
That eventually healed, roughly a week or so after the fact, but anytime I bump my elbow, the pain I experience is unbelievable. I have a fairly high tolerance for pain. I experience much discomfort most of the time, but choose not to elaborate on it, as there are always those worse off. I learned this valuable lesson from a dear friend who unfortunately passed back in 2006. The pain when I bump my arm, though, is quite substantial. I never realized how clumsy I am, as I have in the past few weeks.
There's been a few setbacks at work. Some by customers. Some by employers. All complete bullshit. Customers being unrealistic, in some cases, and taking out their frustrations on us. Like it's our fault (me and my co-worker - there's only two of us in the entire shop), that they're idiots. My boss, not the dude from the Winnipeg location who clearly hates me, but MY boss, has been calling and talking to my co-worker, questioning him about me and implying that I'm not pulling my weight. I've got some concerns about his inquiries. They're completely unsubstantiated and misguided, but he's not known for being real "logical", so I have to question whether my future with the company is in jeopardy. Someone (from the Toronto office) once told me that "You have to REALLY screw up to get fired from this company. As long as you don't steal or snort coke off your desk, you should be fine." At the time, I thought this was a no-brainer. The company has nothing I'd ever want to steal, if I were a steal-er, and there was absolutely no chance of ever snorting coke off my desk. For one, it's a waste of money. And (B), the bubbles would tickle my nose. I don't even like laughing and having it drip out of my nasal cavity.
My bosses theories are bullshit. Personally, I think it's a personal vendetta created by a deep-seated jealousy. I think he's jealous because I have really cool hair. Not to mention that I have a LOT more of it, too, than he does. I could be mistaken, of course, but probably not. It's happened before. It's simply one of the unfortunate curses of being such a sexy bitch.
I've also been plagued with nose bleeds the last couple of weeks, the fluidity of them (pardon the pun), increasing this week. I had one Wednesday afternoon, while speaking on the phone with a customer. I found it difficult to juggle the phone, write down her information and hold a tissue up to my nose, while my cohort spoke candidly on the phone about the freezing cold weather we'd been experiencing this week.
I choked on some food Wednesday night. Something that occurs far too frequently for me. In the past ten years I've probably had it happen more times than I can count, but have sought medical assistance in their removal about ten times now, the last four experiences being in the last couple of years. The only method that has proven itself successful, is by having a gastroscopy. This is a VERY unpleasant procedure which involves getting your throat frozen then a camera, roughly the diameter of a #2 pencil pushed down your throat. Only as it's going down your throat, it feels more like the size of a Buick Roadmaster. It's very unpleasant and no amount of freezing can mask that feeling.
I experienced two more nose bleeds. The first as I was hunched over my toilet Wednesday night, trying desperately to dislodge the culprit on my own. The water in the toilet quickly turning from crystal clear to a scene from Jaws. The second as I sat in the examining room at the hospital, before going in for my gastroscopy procedure.
The silver lining this week was, getting my truck back from the body shop. Unfortunately, I've had a couple of issues in the days since. One was a missing piece of trim, but that was remedied quickly, but there are a couple other aesthetics that have been bothering me, though, that I'm going to have to address next week. Grrr, but I really DO love my truck. Love love LOVE it!
Icing on the cake, was tonight. Although minor, it's just one more aspect contributing to a compilation of shit. I finally cleaned a spot in my basement for a shelving unit my mother had purchased for me for my birthday back in November. I realize that we are now nearly at the "two months later" point, but I'm nothing if not a procrastinator. The assembly was rather elementary. Open the package. Put on feet. Attach poles then a shelf. Repeat. Done! I fought with the last shelf a little, but finally got it together. I had one before, and regaled in the simplicity of it's assembly, but this one was, inexplicably, a little more tough, and the end result makes it about two inches taller than the other "exact same one". I looked down and saw droplets of blood. I immediately reached for my nose, expecting another nose bleed, but quickly noticed the blood was dripping from my hand. "How the f*ck did I do that?"
Wednesday night, while struggling to dislodge the morsel of food from my throat, fighting off a violent nose bleed. The handle on my toilet broke into two pieces. I own a beautiful home, but I'm not all that handy around the house. I changed the float a few weeks back and f*cked that up. The handle looks like an easy fix, but so did the float, so I shudder to see what happens tomorrow when I attempt that job. F*ckin' house'll probably burn down, given my luck this year.
What does the future hold? Like I said, I'm not a religious person, but I pray I don't die. If I win the lottery like I've been hoping...? Then I'm most likely doomed.
Happy New Year!
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