Wednesday evening my wife and I return to her parent's house from working on our new home that we can't call a home yet because we're not living in it and who knows when we will.
Bree hands me a jar of salsa from the fridge that she can't seem to open. I pump out my chest in a manly manner and take hold of the salsa jar with both menacingly manly hands. I assume the position and grasping the jar in my left and the lid in my right, I start the process. you know. a little nudge to see how much pressure you need to apply. then you increase it double from there until the lid turns in unthreaded, counter-clockwise liberation.
this didn't happen. it didn't budge. the lid didn't budge that is. the jar, on the other hand (heh), gave in upon the massively manly pressure of my superhuman strength and my right hand fell straight into the pointed greeting of the glass salsa jar.
here. take a look at my hand in the Urgent Care:
you should see the other guy. I wish I had pics of the salsa jar. messy.
the thing that sucks the most is that I get 2 days off from my day job, which is nice (doctors note and all). but I want to be able to work on my other freelance projects and I'm not really able to. hell, this blog entry is taking me 10 minutes longer than it should since I'm using index finger precision. at least I can catch up on some reading.
that is all. now go away. I'm pissy.
the doctor told me one centimeter down and I would've hit an artery. yikes.