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Wednesday, October 16, 2013


This was an interesting day from start to finish. It started off with a yow... and ended with a wow. :c)

First, the yow.

(Actually, the yows.)




My day began with one of those self-inflicted wounds in which I (and my sister-in-klutziness Stace) seem to excel.  :c)

I was washing my hair this morning during my shower. With my head down, I reached out to the left for the shampoo, which was on a shelf.

Whoops. lol

My right shoulder and the right side of my neck both began to bark simultaneously.

Somehow I managed to finish shampooing. After a few moments to build my nerve, I slowly lifted my head.

Ow. Ow. Ow.

I managed to get dressed - and adding insult to injury, it was in boy mode. Sigh. The usual uniform of a loose polo shirt, black jeans, and my ratty sneakers. It is unpleasant, to say the least, but what can a girl do, after all? ;-)

I spent the rest of the day at the office ignoring everyone who attempted to address me from the right. It seemed to work (although I suppose I have no way to prove that, do I)?

Deciding my daily allocation pain had not yet been met, I proceeded directly from the office to - you guessed it - electrolysis.

And just to ensure maximum discomfort, we decided to do a bit of cleanup work around the corners of my mouth for the first 10 minutes or so, and then move on to tame the caterpillars attempting to reclaim their territory above my eyes.

Ignoring my suggestion of simply dousing the entire area with a can of Raid, M, my therapist, did her usual thorough job. In this case, that meant ensuring that the occasional shooting pain from my shoulder was generally balanced out by the more low-key, headache-inducing throb of working just above my clenched baby blues. ;-p

At the blessed end of the hour, things finally, finally began to pick up.

As I was gingerly writing out a check to her, M suddenly stopped her end-of-day cleanup and looked at me.

"You look different tonight, Cass," she said.

"Oh?"

"Yes. From last week to this week, I see a genuine change."

"How so?" I asked.

She thought for a moment.

"You look much more feminine. It is really striking now that I look at you."

"Well, thank you, M," I said, as my face turned its typical crimson.

"You look extra pretty tonight, hon," she replied. "You really do. And you know me; I mean what I say. If I don't think it, I won't say anything."

"You know, I already wrote out the check, so I can't add any zeroes," I joked.

She batted me lightly on the shoulder (my left shoulder, thankfully). :c)

"Oh, you!" she said. "You need to learn how to accept a compliment like a lady. You don't need to joke every time someone says something nice."

Dutifully chastened, I promised to work on it before my next session - which prompted her to reply that I was assuming I would *deserve* a compliment next week.

Well played, M, well played. :c)

***

Before I could get home to my date (unfortunately, it was with a heating pad ;-p), I had to go grocery shopping.

After picking up my usual cart full of creme soda and honey BBQ chips (I never know when my sister April may decide to elude the Border Patrol in the throes of a chip withdrawal, after all), I proceeded to the register.

There was only one open for orders larger than 12 items, so I dutifully waited behind the two gentleman ahead of me.

The gentleman closest to me reached over to the magazines, pulled one off the rack, and began to idly flip through it.

I glanced over - and saw it was Rolling Stone's Bruce Springsteen Collector's Issue.

Score!!!

After a few minutes the line began to move, and he slipped the magazine back into the rack - which I promptly removed and added to my cart. (Of course! I mean, duh! This is The Boss, after all!)

When enough room cleared for me to begin adding my items, the magazine was the first thing I put down.

This caught the eye of the magazine's previous purveyor in front of me. He glanced at it for a moment, then glanced at me and smiled.

"I take it you're a fan?" he asked.

"I am - a diehard, in fact," I said. "You should get it too."

"I like him, but I was thinking of getting it for my wife, actually," he said.

"Oh, go for it then!" I told him. "Trust me - women love Bruce."

He looked at my magazine again, then at me, and then smiled.

"Well, obviously you do."

:#)

As I was driving home, I played it back in my mind.

With my neck throbbing, I was moving with, well, less than ladylike grace.

The skin around my eyes and mouth was blotchy and swollen.

Oh, and I was in boy mode.

And yet somehow he still took me as a girl.

Not a bad end to the day!

***

Can I end with anything other than Bruce? I think not!


And the fact that Bruce is shirtless and sporting a full head of curls had nothing to do with my choice whatsoever. No, seriously, it didn't! I mean it...

4 comments:

Stace on October 17, 2013 at 1:17 PM said...

I object to being called a klutz...

Just because during their last visit my mum asked whether or not I had always been this clumsy when I tripped (or dropped something, or walked into a doorway) for the umpteenth time that day.

Or because my colleagues ask me whether or not I've walked into my wall today, or is that still to come.

Or when one of the guys on my team carries my beaker back to the washing up pile in the canteen just because I've knocked it over for the third time during lunch (when empty I hasten to ask!).

:D

As for the rest of the day :) Just what you need to pick you up when you can no longer use your arm.

Stace

PS When you learn how to take a compliment can you teach me please - my therapist has told me I need to learn how to take them as well!

Cassidy on October 18, 2013 at 10:50 PM said...

Hi Stace!

I was telling my co-worker R about how I hurt my neck. She laughed and said no one else could possibly do something like that. I replied that Stace could. (She knows who you are.) :c)

She didn't believe me - until I sent her the link to *your* post about *your* shampoo mishap. lol R was amazed that someone else could be as clumsy as me!

My therapist tells me the same thing about compliments. And I'm not even British! lol

Hugs,
Cass

LL Cool Joe on October 20, 2013 at 2:17 PM said...

I don't think anyone handles compliments well. When I looked like Kylie Minogue (hard to believe I know) guys used to stop me and compliment me on on my arse. I wanted to knee them in the balls. Ha.

Now, I don't get any compliments, so I must be doing something right!

Cassidy on October 20, 2013 at 8:36 PM said...

@ Joe: Kylie Minogue, eh? As a member of what my GG friend C calls the BBC (the Bony Butt Club), that will never be an issue for me!

I think some of us are better than others at compliments. I guess if my therapist is pointing it out to me, I'm one of the others - as I am with, well, other things! :-p

BTW, I suspect it isn't that they don't want to compliment you; they are simply too awed to speak. ;-)

== Cass

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