No really, I walked into a wall

I joked last weekend that the bride would probably fire me if I showed up at her wedding with a black eye. A few days earlier, I snarled at Rob that he couldn’t demonstrate a beat-down technique on me because my arms bruise easily.

In 2003, toward the end of the U-Haul unloading, I whacked my head on the latch of the trailer and gashed my scalp. It was about 4:45 p.m., and my mother said, “Stop bleeding so we can return the trailer by 5.”

So yesterday, on the sixth and final, nonconsecutive day of moving, I was waiting for the dryer to finish (yes I did take two loads of laundry to Olympia because there’s a washer and dryer there and not here), and the carpet was vacuumed and the shower and sinks sprayed with Lysol with bleach. I noticed some spots of blood on the window slats where Emerald liked to rub his spines after I tortured him by pulling off stubborn shed.

I strode across the living room to reach through the space above the counter-top/bar into the kitchen to get the bottle of cleaner. Evidently I forgot that there was wall above the empty space and I smacked my forehead into it. Hard.

Rob asked me if I cried. I didn’t really, because I was so startled. I was afraid to remove my hand because if there was blood, a) it would scar and b) I’d probably have to go to the Emergency Room and that would definitely keep me from getting home by the time Rob got off work.

There was no blood, but there’s an ugly bump, and some broken blood vessels. I look a little like a vampire partway through the prosthetic process on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Guess I won’t be taking new passport pictures this weekend.

Speaking of U-Haul, (no really, I did, a few grafs up) why are its employees required to be jerks? Like they’re doing me a huge favor by letting me borrow their trailer?

I wanted to get a 6 x 12 trailer, but learned that despite the website’s assessment, my hitch couldn’t handle it. We got a 5 x 8, and man, you wouldn’t believe how Rob packed all the furniture and most of my worldy possessions into that thing and my car.

Except a rose bush, a lamp and a vacuum cleaner, which actually is his. So that’s why I went back yesterday.

Published by Kari Neumeyer

Writer, editor, dog mom, ovarian cancer survivor

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