After all the running around, we headed home, where Cassie and Sam both ended up taking a three hour nap. I used that time to work on some story ideas and do some drawing. I felt very productive and was in a great mood by the time both kids woke up and Michael came home.
For dinner that evening, Michael grilled steaks and corn on the cob (YUM!). Afterwards, I sat with Cassie and Sam and watched a Disney movie that didn’t involve a princess (yeah!). Cassie went to bed fairly easily, and Sam was down shortly after with very little fuss. As I put on my pajamas, I told my husband I had had the perfect day.
Then I went and broke my damn toe.
OUCH! OUCH OUCH OUCH!
See, what happened is this. I was all tucked in bed, snuggling with my husband, when I realized I had forgotten to do my physical therapy exercises for my knees. So I hopped out of bed. Sam’s bassinette is right next to my side of the bed, so I was being very careful not to trip over it as I walked toward a more open part of the room to stretch. I was so careful, in fact, that I failed to notice the iron bedpost on the other side of me and I slammed my left foot into it, thus breaking my little toe. The conversation between me and my husband in the twenty minutes following that event was rather interesting.
Me: *%&^#^$*!!! Oh &$%(^$&!
Michael: Sweetie? What happened?
Me: @#$@#%%^^#*&^!!! I broke my $%^*@#! toe!
Michael: Are you okay?
Me: No, *^%&@$#%! Do I sound okay? I broke my %^$&#$%#$% toe!
Michael: Do you want me to turn on the light and look at it?
Me: #$*%&$%#&!
Michael: Okay, do you want me to go get some ice then?
Me: %&$%*#@(^&%^$##%^!!!
Michael: Maybe you should lie on the bed and elevate your foot.
Me (collapsing on the bed and writhing in pain): *&^#$*&%^#$^!! I can’t believe I broke my *#&%#^*(@&^&# toe!!
And so on. Note that in my moment of distress, I naturally lapsed back into my native tongue - swearing.
So after a perfectly lovely day, I smashed up my little toe and now I’m hobbling around the house in constant pain. The toe in question is twice its normal size and very, very purple. I did go see a doctor, even though I didn’t want to, and listened to him as he explained that the only thing he could do is tape the mashed toe to the one next to it (which is something I already knew, and that was why I didn’t want to bother with going to see a doctor but my physical therapist insisted). I’m out of karate for the time being because I can barely walk. I can do my physical therapy stuff if I’m very careful not to knock my left foot around. And I can still take care of Sam. But most of the time I’m pretty much immobile with my foot elevated and packed in ice.
So there you go, a perfect example of the Cynical Woman truism. Just when you think everything is going great, something goes horribly, horribly wrong, and then Cynical Woman raises her ugly head and says...
Well, you know what she says.
***
Here’s the artwork from yesterday. My plan yesterday had been to continue working on drawing torsos and maybe start adding legs. Somehow I actually ended up completing one of the figures. I’m thrilled with the results. The pose is complicated, especially the angle of the head, yet I didn’t need to look at any reference guides to make it work. I was able to draw it straight from my mind with a bit of experimentation. Practice has definitely made all the difference in my artwork.
2 comments:
Aargh! Poor Helen! I've fucked up my toes and a few other parts a few times and your right about Cynical Woman always putting her 2 cents in...bitch!
But through it all, you come through it cursing and smiling ;)
(as if your blog wasn't interesting enough already...)
Hey, if you can't screw, can you at least get drunk?
love,
angee
Not getting drunk right now. There's too much going on in the house for me to tip a glass. Besides, with my luck and my limited tolerance for alcohol, I'd probably get too tipsy too quickly and break something else, like my ass.
Helen
Cynical Woman
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