But, that all changed this morning.
The architect had to leave at obscene o’clock in the morning for a day trip to Seattle (he does that every 2 weeks or so). I stayed in bed. Sleeping. At about 6:15 or so, I woke up from a dream that one of our (7!) smoke detectors was beeping the beep of a dead battery. And guess what? The hall smoke detector was beeping.
I was not at my sharpest. I went into the guest room where we usually have a folding chair – but couldn’t find it. So, I found instead a rectangular milk crate. It looks like this:
I stood it up on one end, so I could reach the ceiling. Did I hop up on the supported side? Ha ha ha – why would I do that?
I hopped up on the non-supported side and reached for the smoke detector. The crate did an exciting flip (Olympic calibur, people). I was not ready for the flip, so I did not leap up all crouching tiger-like, pause in the air, and wait for it to land before alighting gracefully. No, instead, I decided to try flying. It didn’t so much work.
I landed on the crate. Actually, more accurately, I did a belly flop onto the crate. It was very exciting. Except one of my toes was caught in the little squares.
I laid their for awhile, trying to decide if I was dead, and if not, how I would notify the ambulance that I might need assistance. It occurred to me that I would either have to get up and deal with it, get up & find the phone so I could call for help, or lay their for at least 12 hours waiting for the architect to get home (which may lead to being eaten by starving kitties). And I kinda had to pee. Also – the smoke detector? Still fucking beeping (the cats – not impressed).
So, I got up. I went downstairs & got the step ladder & my cell phone. I took the battery out of the damn smoke detector. It beeped away. I pulled it out of the ceiling. Still beeping. I couldn’t find any 9V batteries (we’d used them replacing smoke detector batteries – this was the only one not done). So, I made a few phone calls (to work – not coming in; to a friend – hey can you grab my running stuff from work; to another friend – hey can you do this stuff for me at work today), took a LOT of ibuprofen, and got dressed.
I had an appointment this morning at my new job to fill out a lot of paperwork, so that when I start, I’m all set up.
So – I have a lovely contusion (bruise doesn’t really cover it) on my left forearm, the beginnings of an even more spectacular bruise on my right shin (I was just glad I missed my knee), and a very bruised, possibly broken toe. Not to mention the back pain. I also have an appointment for 8:30 Monday morning w/ my magic chiropractor.
One of my first thoughts after falling was, “I wonder if I will still be able to run today.”
Hopefully, though, I can still do my 50 mile ride tomorrow & my 8-11 mile run on Sunday. I have a half marathon in 2 weeks, and a century ride in 3 weeks, and I really don’t want to have to drop out. Obviously I will if I’m seriously injured, but I’m really not feeling too bad right now. In fact, I went into work, anyways (I suck at calling in sick).
Happy things, though: My new office at my new job is a real office. Right now, I share a large cubicle in the middle of our department, with no door, and walls that are only 6 feet tall. No privacy – and super loud. Not only that, but our bathroom here is also the bathroom for 5 million children in the summer. Imagine the fun of sharing a toilet with 5 million little girls for whom potty training is a new thing.
My new office – the one with the door AND the window – is shared with one other person. AND we have our own bathroom. For just the two of us! And I feel very confident that her potty training skills way outstrip a 7-year-olds.
So – in 2 hours or so, I am going home and having a martini. Happy Friday!