This week, I had a Jonah week. (If you don’t know what that is, go back to your childhood and read Anne of Green Gables.)
Monday morning started out innocently enough. Get up. Eat breakfast. Shower. Hop on my scooter and set off for work.
Two blocks from work, a car pulled into me and my lane, and while they didn’t make contact, I, of course, pulled hard on my brakes and my scooter skittered, and then it and I went crashing to the pavement. As I was flying through the air, I thought I was going to die. But no, everything stopped moving, and I could still wiggle my toes. There was no blood trickling down my face, and since the pavement was still concrete, I figured I wasn’t at the Pearly Gates just yet.
A bicyclist, the guy in the guilty car, and another driver all stopped to pull the scooter off my trapped leg, pick me up, and dust me off. Besides a pretty nasty skinned up knee and ankle, and goose-egg quality bruises on my thigh and knee, and painful ribs, I was fine. When the world came back into focus, I looked up into the face of the guilty driver. Oh hello, co-worker. What are the odds in a big city like Seattle?
With a little coaxing and bending back into shape, my dear scooter started up reluctantly, and we all continued on our way. I held off bleeding too much til I made it to the office to scrub hard at all the road rash while my adrenaline was still pumping through me and masking the pain. It wasn’t until I got myself all bandaged up, dropped my purse on my desk, and sat down by my boss’s desk that I took a deep breath, and burst into little girl tears.
Ryan bought me ice cream, and took away my scooter keys, and my boss made me stay home the next day with my leg up. But I should have gone to work, it was the ill-fated decision that ruined my week.
On my Tuesday ‘sick day’ off, I went out to run a couple errands, driving our Pathfinder. And backed it smack into someone’s mini van.
Have I mentioned how wonderful Ryan was through all of this? Me nearly killing myself one day and then the next day pretty much guaranteeing our insurance premiums go up? He even dealt with all the phone calls to the insurance company. WhatAGuy.
Wednesday morning lasted about 35 minutes before disaster stuck.
Minutes after Ryan headed out the door to work at 6:30, I went to grab my phone off the charger. Four missed calls. Three messages. WHAT? Oh yeah, having taken Tuesday off, I had not received any of the eighteen reminders I had set for myself about how I was supposed to be at work at 6am to unlock a facility for a rather picky client.
By this point I shouldn’t even have had any adrenaline left in my body. It’s gone. Drained. Siphoned.
But I made it to work in record time, and in spite of bruised ribs and shoulders and a stiff leg, and with a lot of assistance from some awesome coworkers…the morning happened. The client did complain to the VP that afternoon about that irresponsible am staff member (Me). I felt horrible about forgetting them. Why the one time I’m late for a shift in how many years…
I think I’ll take the weekend off with a bottle of wine.