Tuesday got off to a roaring start when the below happened...all over my new white shirt. I got to sport the fresh, 'someone just took a shit on my chest' look all day at the office. I became quite enraged when I spilt the majority of my thousand dollar Starbucks coffee absolutely everywhere. It was dripping off my pants into my shoe and all over my desk. I experienced the kind of rage I get when I miss the first 2 minutes of Law and Order:SVU and I have no clue whose penis went where. The opening 2 minutes of that show are CRUCIAL for that show to make any sense. It really messes me up and I get angry.
Since I'm still kinda Tiny Tim-ing it around the city on my crutches, and the general public is filled with assholes, I haven't been taking the subway to work. To get to work my cankles and I arrive in style by using the Wheel-Trans service. (If you're not familiar with the Wheel-Trans service, they help people with disabilities get around the city.) They enjoy picking people up 5 hours before you need to be anywhere and they LOVE dropping you off 2 hours late when all you want to do is go home and eat your feelings Not to mention I'm the youngest passenger by about 1000 years. For sure most of these people I ride with knew Jesus personally.
*I do have to say my favourite part of taking Wheel-Trans is the driver has to put on each passenger's seatbelt, and it's actually the most action I've seen in a while. If I close my eyes and throw a little Marvin Gaye on the iPod, I pretend it's Channing Tatum grazing my hip and blowing his Dorito breath in my face. It helps. I also pretend other things but my mother reads this blog.
Wednesday, on the way home, we stopped to pick up an old Asian woman at the hospital. She was roughly about 103-105 years old. LIke I'm talking this bitch had one foot in the grave. I wonder how she felt when she realized this was probably her last night on earth and she was spending it with some chubby white girl with a sweaty upper lip and a chin strap. (I'm finding more hair on my chin every waking minute. I'm just waiting for the moment my Mom tells me my Dad isn't my real Father and she actually fucked a saskwatch in 1981...it's the only plausible option and it would explain a lot.
Anyway, I'm getting way off topic as per usual.
After the driver strapped this Asian woman in, she turns to me and out of no where starts screaming at me in Chinese. Like I'm talking screaming. I had no idea what she was saying obviously and I'm yet to pass level one Chinese on Rosetta Stone. What this bitch's problem was was beyond me. How was I supposed to diffuse this situation? The most obvious answer was to do what anyone does when they are trying to avoid someone in public, I played with my phone. I ended up messaging my girlfriend Katie to tell her what was going on and how this woman was launching a fierce verbal attack on me. Katie said "Just say Knee-How" (This is not how it's spelt but how it sounds) Not even thinking twice or worrying that I may actually be telling this woman to go fuck herself in Chinese, I turn to her and yell in best and loudest Asian accent. "KNEE HOWWWWWW". Right in her face. Silence. Amazing.
Thursday was another gem of a day. Since I'm a hardcore pee holder, and I can hold my pee for like 8 days, I thought I would be totally fine holding it for the 5th hour until I got home from work (I hate public washrooms). But, by the time I got home and crutched my fat ass into my apartment, I quickly realized I may actually have a warm fuzzy feeling streaming right down my pant leg any minute. (I usually do the pee dance if my urge to urinate is overwhelming. You know the one where your eyes roll back in your head, you bite your lip and cross your legs as you try to walk to hold your pee in and shuffle to the toilet? Ya, that one. Well I either do that or hike my pants up so hard and give myself mega camel toe, hoping this'll keep the pee on lockdown. Kinda like taking my vagina hostage.)
Anwyay, when I got to my washroom, I realized I had left all my towels on the floor from my shower that morning, and for a girl on crutches, this is a real fucking hazard. So naturally and in true Nanners fashion, I was not paying attention to the fact that I LEFT THE TOILET SEAT DOWN when I had to kneel on the toilet seat that morning to turn the shower off. So I threw myself on the toilet and just started power pissing....ON THE CLOSED LID....Absolutely everywhere.... All over the floor, my legs, and I swear some hit the wall too. It was like a monsoon of piss and I couldn't stop since I had already committed to relieving myself. Once hurricane Irene had finished. I sat there and sobbed on my toilet before I was able to pull my shit together and clean that mess up.
Keep in mind by Thursday, I had been waiting for my period that was already 10 days late. Lately when I'm PMS'ing, I feel like a one-woman circus. I'm like a hybrid between Rebecca De Mornay in The Hand That Rocks The Cradle and a clown. One minute I'm laughing and the next I'm googling how to make homemade bombs.
Well, here's to hoping this week is better than the last. I'm kinda thinking those people that snort bath salts are on to something.
Peace out.
*Oh and one last thing, I have a new found respect for anyone that has a permanent disability. It's incredible how inaccessible this world really is and the lack of people that are willing to help when they see someone struggling. I'm fortunate enough that my situation isn't permanent but there are so many people that have to deal with far more serious physical problems. If you see that someone needs help, help them. Even if it's just holding a door. You never know, one day that could be you or someone you care about.
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