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2007-01-29 - 6:43 p.m.

Graceless Under Fire

Early this morning I was trapped face down on the ground, trying to dodge the arrow of a bow-wielding Nicole Kidman. I glanced up, noticed she was facing the other direction, as my friend hissed at me to "GOOOOOOOO! GO NOW!" I grabbed my bow and arrow, rolled over to the left as hard as I could, and promptly bashed my clavicle on the edge of my night table, fell off the bed and pulled the lamp down with me.

Somewhere between the pain and the flailing, I realized I'd been dreaming. I had fallen face first on a pile of clothes, and the lamp cord was looped around my arm. I laid there for a few seconds, trying to get my bearings. My clavicle area was throbbing, as was my left kneecap. Plus, I was embarrassed for being a sleeping 'tard. I managed to get the lamp cord untwisted and set it back on the night table. Then I tried to push myself up without putting any weight on either kneecap (my right kneecap is still sensitive from when I tripped about 6 months ago). Am I the epitome of elegance, or what?

I finally managed to right myself, stood up, and sat on the bed where SweetPea and Buddy were staring at me quizzically. And I think they were a little embarrassed for me too.

So here it is, 12 hours later, and I'm still sore. I have to be careful not to move my head too fast from side to side because the tendons in my neck pull at my bruised skin. But it's nothing too bad, thankfully. I'm lucky I didn't take out an eyeball on the edge of that table, or break a bone.

I didn't plan on doing much today anyhoo (it's sooooo chilly) which worked out perfectly since I slept all afternoon. I've got one big errand to run this week (getting my KY car registration) and a few wee errands (picking up some Rx refills, filling up the gas tank, running to the store for a few trip-related items). Everything else is home stuff. Laundry, packing, tidying up, etc. I'll hopefully get a few more organzing projects finished up as well. And if I don't have any dreams about killing Tom Cruise with an axe on a gigantic greased baking sheet, I should make it through the week in one piece.

But no matter what damage I do to myself, it will not impact my ability to fix orange rolls for you, my favorite people. Even if I have to scoot myself to the kitchen on skateboard after losing my legs during a kinky sex game gone awry with Johnny Depp (goddamn lamp cord!) or nub a spoon to open the Pillsbury canister after breaking all my fingers while doing jazz hands with Liza Minelli and straddling the back of a chair, nothing will keep me from preparing the ultimate breakfast numbies for my friends.

But someone's gonna have to help me roll the Monopoly dice.