Monday, Monday

It seems that every time I think something is going to get better that something else happens to prove I am wrong. I don’t know what it is. I don’t believe in luck but it seems of late that dark clouds seem to follow me in mass.

On Monday, Jerry fell in the yard, onto the patio. He broke and dislocated his two middle fingers of his right hand. He had a small break but it was in a place where a ligament was attached and the bones broke through the skin causing what the doctor called an open dislocation. The exact piece of bone where the ligament was attached, the volar plate, is what broke off. The doctor put the fingers back in their proper place, sewed up the open wounds on the palm side of his fingers and sent us home. I had three hours sleep that night. I spent Tuesday morning at the orthopedic doctor’s, had lunch, then spent the afternoon at the rehab waiting while they put a splint on him. I went home and spent the evening playing nurse and fixing supper. I tried to take a nap but Becca was sick and needed something and I had to get up. So, I didn’t make a further attempt until midnight.

I was so sick today, Wednesday morning, that I just could not get up and go to work. I slept until 10:30 and was sluggish until about 2 p.m..

Since Monday afternoon, I was also angry because I was at work when this happened and my family had to call five times before they could get the moronic girl on the switchboard get someone call me to the phone. Actually, I was on the phone with a client. She told them she just didn’t have time to fool with it.

Tonight I am going to go to bed on time well, for me anyway. It is now 11:00 p.m. so I better get to it. Next post will contain some positive substance!