Throat Punch Tuesday

Dear this week,
You suck. 

Yes, and it is only Tuesday. Monday dropped in and kicked me in the layers yesterday and Tuesday is not looking any shinier. 

Today's nonsense was (in a round about way) brought to you by the worst idea in retail: 

No..

Not this either, although this is just weird and wrong. 

Not even Handerpants...








It's bathroom products which are housed in glass containers. This combined with tile flooring is akin to money with wings at my house. I am getting wrinkly and old waaaaay before my time because these jars and bottles of eye cream and youthful splendor lotion end up humpty-dumpty'ed on the tile after about 2 applications. 

Yes, I have considered scooping up and using the product post-break (don't judge), but the idea of rubbing splintered glass into my already not-youthful skin only allows me to consider it for about... 13 seconds. Then I frown until that wrinkle between my eyes pulsates and throw it all away. 

Adding injury to insult today was Special Agent, who was lovingly changing light bulbs in his Superman underoos when, while throwing away cramming the old bulbs in the trash, encountered my latest broken miracle cream container and sliced his knuckle well, off. Craaap. Much blood oozery and swearing. 

We loaded up our still home baboo (who was also still in his underoos when notified of the injury) and headed off to the doc, post-haste. Special Agent had already told me he wanted to go to the walk in-clinic, to which I agreed might be faster than the local ER. He held gauze over his bloody grossness as I drove.

We hustled to the walk in clinic of his choice..
 which was closed. 

So, we went to the other clinic. 
Also closed.

I grew tired of dicking around and drove to the open-24-7-ER, much to the annoyance of Special Agent. He was adamant he would NOT be going to the ER. I drove there anyway, ignoring him and his bloody nub of a knuckle. 

He insisted we drive back home and wait for the clinic to open. 
I wanted to go in so we could get things taken care of NOW since we were already HERE.

He allowed he didn't like the ER and didn't feel like they offered a quality service. 
I condescendingly reminded him that the clinic we were trying to go to originally is a branch of the same ER we are arguing in front of presently. 

I think Special Agent must have suffering from blood-loss related illness, because at some point he stomped toward the ER doors just to prove that I HAVE to have my way, but then I wouldn't let him go in, since he didn't want to. It was the height of ridiculous arguing for spouses. 

The Baboo sat in the back and looked at us like we were both annoying idiots. 
I think he might have been right. 

At some point, I think Special Agent worried that I might be wishing he would bleed to death because he suggested we get a drive through breakfast while we waited. 

BREAKFAST!!!!???!!! I fumed as i drove to a McDonald's for Egg Mcmuffins. I considered attacking him, but 
a) we were in a drive-thru
b) he couldn't really defend himself while holding his finger and 
c) I didn't want his drippy blood all over my car. 

CAN I SUPERSIZE THAT COFFEE?????

We got our food and I headed back to the clinic. We ate in the car and ventilated the tension through the open car windows. We watched all of the docs and nurses roll in, and stand around outside healthily smoking cigs. I pointed to the child coming in, and let Special Agent know that was likely his doc. We walked in just as they opened and were 01 in the serving line. 

The cut was actually a cut-OUT, so there wasn't much to be done about the wound except irrigate it and wrap it in dressings. I delighted only mildly that Special Agent had to get a tetanus shot (not in the ass, bummer) and that his finger dressing makes him look a little like this guy. 

And, that the doc was the child I pointed out from the parking lot. 

Happy Tuesday at The Layers. The couch is calling me....