Did I tell you that I fell down the other day (Wednesday, I think)? Don’t think I did. I fell. On the kitchen floor. For no discernible reason. But I fell hard, and I’m bruised all over. Including the inside of my left bicep. I have NO idea how I managed to bruise that part of my arm and my knees. I could understand the outside, but falling on the inside of my arm probably would have wrenched my shoulder, and I didn’t notice that Wednesday night….but that might explain the upper back pain I woke up with this morning… It’s gone now. The takeaway from this story is that I am a klutz. I tripped over nothing and bruised myself all to hell. It’s a wonder I didn’t stick a carrot in my eye at lunch today. Do you have any idea why my boss would make fun of me for having carrots and hummus for lunch? What’s weird about that?
Maybe I fell because the microwave died. (Makes as much sense as anything else.) The microwave that John fixed a while back has gone kaput again. Won’t run at all. Something happened (maybe lightning – we lost power) while we were on vacation. Luckily, we still have John’s college microwave. (I could have sworn we got rid of it after the last microwave fiasco because who needs two microwaves in one house? Other than us.) So now we have a useless microwave hanging above the stove and a very useful microwave taking up all the counter space above the dishwasher. I don’t know yet if John is going to try to fix the broken one or if we’re going to buy a shiny new one to go in its place. Either way, I’m sure we’re not going to get rid of the old one that keeps coming to our rescue. We’re loyal like that. Until we move. I can’t make any promises when it comes time to pack up and the moving company charges by weight. On the other hand, when we’re being charged for hundreds of boxes of books, what’s one microwave in comparison?