I Am A Spaz

Ok, I just thought I'd post this, because it is so typically me. Today was registration day at school. All of the laughing, smiling parents bring their irritable progeny to the school to sign up for classes. We all put on our Sunday best to meet and greet the families and reassure the community that we can be trusted with their most precious little angels. Even the PE teachers change out of track suits and make nice with everyone. Needless to say, appearance is VERY important.

It stormed here last night. When I got home, it was pitch black and my power was out. I took my WalMart bags out of the car, waded through three inches of water and opened the outside door. With my hands full, and the lights out, I began to climb the stairs to my kitchen; one, two, three, "there's seven, right?" I ask myself, five, six, seven, SMACK! No, folks, there are EIGHT steps to my kitchen. I missed that last step, tripped up it, and slammed my face into the kitchen door. I could taste blood filling my mouth and running down my face onto my shirt. Crying from the pain and the frustration of a very long day, I grabbed an icepack and put it in my mouth (this was the part that hurt worst). I fumbled around, found a candle and went to the bathroom. Bloody nose and bleeding mouth, shit. I washed the blood from my face, and it didn't look too bad. After taking some Tylenol and putting ice on my mouth for about an hour, the lights came on. I went to look in the mirror...

The first question from one of my co-workers this morning was, "what's the other guy look like?" I have a swollen nose, and a fat lip that's got a huge crusty scab covering one entire side. Oh, yeah, I had to get my ID picture taken today... *sigh*, welcome to the joy that IS my life.