I'm a big fat clod

This is what I do to myself.

Due to being stuck in ‘hearsals for so long, my house was getting gross. Like, laundry was lying about. Grass was overgrown. Weeds everywhere. Fucking…dust. Hairball piles. And for anyone that’s familiar with my obsessive-compulsive tendencies will understand that this is unacceptable as hell.

So Saturday A.M., after a quick trip to the most loverly place in the world (Read: Farmers Market) I decided to kibosh ‘fu in lieu of some hard core house frassin.

While taking care of the aforementioned list (Including warshing the runner rugs, which had only acted as a receptacle for cat barf lately) I started to realize that I was slowly running out of time. So by mid-afternoon I started to fear that I wouldn’t have half the shit done that I had planned, and therefore I kicked it into overdrive.

Which is the point where I should mention that, in cleaning /dusting the hell out of my hardwood stairs, I first cleaned them top to bottom. Went to go get a new rag. BOUNDED upstairs full tilt when WHOOP! Hit a slick spot in my socks, going ass over teakettle and making a faceplant on the top stair. Yes. It hurt. Yes, I have precious little skin left on my shin. Vain actor that I am, I bolted into the bathroom to see if it left a mark. (It didn’t) And it was then and there that I became "that guy". That percentage of the population who gets (sometimes) seriously injured doing projects around the house.

I suppose this really is a stupid and long winded story, but where it get’s better is (That evening) when I was doing the show I flopped a little too hard down on a chair and I caught a metal corner right on my butt bone. It now hurts to sit. And later that night, (And this is really how ‘tardo I am) I thought I had an ingrown hair/pimple on my face… that I was desperate to find and pop. So I’m picking away at my dad gum face like I’m gonna find something when I realize: "Hey…there ain’t no pimpa pimpa! That’s where you decided to head butt the top stair with your face!"

And I cut open my finger trying to open the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. That f#cker hurts. Right on the joint. I really need adult supervision. Badly.

Hey P! Does your face hurt?

‘Cause it’s KILLING me!