Evander and I

Have you ever had one of those days when you knew from the minute your feet hit the floor that you should just not bother getting out of bed. I hardly ever experience that dread, but I did yesterday. And apparently for good reason. I got up with the intention of a little solo road trip to tend to some family business and remembered that the leather tire zippy thing that goes over your tire on the back of your car was off from when we had to change the tire a little while back. Being as neurotic as I am I set it in my mind that the cover was going back on the tire before I left. I mentioned this to Mr. Fantastic, who told me, with no defined reason as to why, it is not going to fit. So out in to the garage I went. After some serious refusal to move I decided that perhaps a pair of pliers would help convince the stubborn zipper to hurry things up a bit. After all I had a minimum of two and a half hours ahead of me to even get to my destination. So I grabbed a pair of pliers that were circa 1970, complete with rust and no sissy rubber grippy things for the handles. Did I mention that they weighed about 8 pounds? All of this should have been a clue to put them down and walk away. But I am determined, and when I set my mind to something, hell or high water I am going to get just that. After one final adjustment I gripped that zipper with the ridiculously large pair of pliers and gave it a yank that would have freed the sword from the stone. Instead of some magical moment of it all working, the zipper top broke, the pliers flew back and nailed me above the eye and I pinched some funky nerve on my back. What a freakin' wreck.

I do realize defeat when I see it. I was starring it in the face. I walked back into the kitchen, and was washing my hands when Mr. Fantastic points out that I am bleeding. I quietly turned to him as he was starring at the blood trailing down my face and said, "If you value your life at all, the words I told you so better never come out of that mouth, so help me god." With that threat I walked to the bathroom to see what I had done to my face.

It never didn't get much better. All day was kind one problem after another, not exactly stellar, but I suppose they can't all be. I iced the cut over my eye and I only looked like Evander Holyfield for a little while. And I made myself to the gym today thinking that if I worked out, perhaps it could loosen what ever I had done to my back. I talked with my trainer a little and she advised me on a few more stretches than I normally do and tada I feel much better. This had better not be an indication as to what my week is going to go like!