splat

Jan. 24th, 2007 08:16 am
dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (deaths-head)
[personal profile] dragonlady7
Ugh I'm having an awful couple of days here. Well maybe it was just one day but it felt like several.

My mysterious illness has become this heavy tickly congestion in my throat and nose, and I've pulled a muscle coughing again, so that sucks. My arms and shoulders are ridiculously sore-- I think I must've landed on my arms somehow when Hazel fell and I was trying to avoid her, at Depew on Monday night. I don't know, but I can't explain it otherwise.
So I was having trouble lifting things, and also trouble breathing.

Then I swung my hand wrong while I was bussing a table, and I got the sharp corner of the garbage can door squarely in the middle of the back of my right hand, between two of the finger-controlling-tendons, and it left a dent that turned bright blue immediately, and then swelled up. It was so excruciating, but I was so busy, so I stuck my hand under my other armpit and went and took a few more orders. But when I got back behind the bar, I couldn't grip anything. The fingers of that hand, particularly the ones further from the thumb, wouldn't close properly.
I communicated my distress to my coworkers, but they were busy and distracted and paid me no mind. This sounds terrible, and is (I've staggered around with a concussion and dizzy spells and been ignored as well), but bartenders/waiters are such fucking drama queens (at least at our place) that we kind of have to ignore each other to get anything done.
So I struggled along to the end of my shift, trying not to lift anything heavy with that hand (after an incident in which an empty beer bottle flew out of it and nearly hit a customer). But then there was the ice bin, and I had to melt the ice in it, and that would involve a great deal of hot water. Water is heavy. The bucket, I need both hands to lift. I stared at it, looked at the bartender, and gave up. I told the bartender that if he couldn't find it in his heart to melt it down for me, he could tell the manager on duty that I'd refused to do it because I couldn't, and they could write me up if they wanted but I was going home.
I saw the supervisor on duty on the way out and told him as well, and he said he'd come help me fill out an accident report, so I went and waited for him but he didn't come for over half an hour, and so I finally cashed out my bank, left him a note with my information, and left. I don't know if they'll accept that, but apparently if you hurt yourself at work and don't fill out a report that same day, then the bosses have no liability for the injury whatsoever and won't pay a dime in workman's comp or medical costs or anything, so that report's really important. But I wasn't going to sit there the rest of the night!

Now, I'd forgotten my parking pass, so I'd had to park in long-term. I managed to wheedle a stamp out of the cash lady, so I didn't have to pay the ten bucks. But I'd also forgotten my skate bag, and that sucked. I had to drive home to get it.
I drove home, and the roads were clear despite the fact that it had apparently snowed about three or four inches. Not much, for Buffalo, so I thought little of it. I got home, and got in the door and didn't want to leave again. I really, really, really wanted to sit on Z's bed with him and surf the Internet and eat ice cream. But no! No, I had to give Tracy my $10 for my t-shirt for the bout by tonight-- NO EXCUSES, we'd been told, and without a shirt we couldn't be in the bout. And I had to at least put in an appearance for my team. But it was so late now-- well, at least I'd be there for the scrimmaging. If nothing else I could keep notes on the lineups.
Fine, fine. Grumble, grumble. So I heaved my skate bag to the car, with great difficulty since my arms both hurt and that sucker's heavy. And I drove up to North Tonawanda. They didn't get much snow there-- not more than two or three inches at the most.
And I pulled into the rink parking lot, and there was nobody there. Not one car. The building was locked, dark.
I got out of the car. Tracks in the parking lot, in the snow-- fresh tire tracks, and hundreds of footprints. The parking lot had been parked full, and had emptied again, sometime since the snow stopped. When did the snow stop? I've no idea. So I stood there in shock for a minute. It was Tuesday, I know it was. It... yes, Tuesday. What the-- people had been here, and had left already. What time was it? It was almost 9:15. Well... Practice starts at 8:30 and ends at 10:30, so I was right in the middle of that. We've never let go this early. What could've happened?
Oh God, did something happen with the rink? Did they kick us out? ... what, in the middle of practice? How the hell would that even happen?
Well maybe someone did something horrible, and... Like what?
Maybe there was a horrible accident and someone was seriously injured, or killed!
... And everyone just got in their cars and left right away?
Maybe a bunch of people... rebelled! And said they wouldn't do whatever it was they were being asked to do! And the board called off the bout and sent everyone home and dissolved the league!
... Because that would... happen. Would it? Who would even... why would that... it would have to be pretty damn bad.
But there's nobody here. Nobody here. And that never happens. We've never closed practice early before.

So I thought in circles like that all the way home, and tried to think of who I could call. No, I thought, I'll get home and see if there's anything in our email boxes first. Although if it just happened... well, if it just happened, people might not be home yet. I might've just missed them!

Anyhow. I'd reduced myself to tears by the time I got home, actual sobbing because I could not think of any innocuous reason for this-- the rink was closed! Nobody there! But tracks in the parking lot! They must've been there and gone! If only I hadn't waited so long for the supervisor so I could make my report-- if only-- something horrible-- what could it be?

So I got home and ran to my computer, not helped by Z being completely unconcerned by the whole thing (I didn't realize he'd been sleeping so the world could pretty much have ended and he'd've had much the same reaction), and...

Of course you know the punchline already, right?
There, timestamped just after 4 pm, was an email with the subject line, "PRACTICE CANCELLED", due to snow. It was snowy then, and they thought it'd get worse. So they cancelled practice. They sent out an email and called Channel 2 so it'd appear on the list of closures that scroll along the bottom of the screen.

I don't get email at work, and we don't get Channel 2 either. We get CNN and ESPN and the weather channel when there's something particularly noteworthy going on in the weather (which, by airport standards, there wasn't yesterday), and I don't even look at the TV more than about twice in my shift.
But of course everyone else does, as it seems I'm the only one who didn't get the message.

Last time there was a practice cancellation was during that awful storm in October and there I was in the dark at work, and my cellphone kept ringing, and it was two or three different rollergirls calling to tell me that practice was cancelled. So I had that in the back of my mind without realizing just how damn long ago that had been, and so the thought "maybe practice was cancelled" never even got to get born because my brain automatically replied "but they call if that happens", and also, "but it's not that snowy".

Does this story get worse? Oh yes it does, because then while I was still upset and crying I emailed the whole Yahoo group with this ridiculous email that I thought conveyed my feelings but of course was overwrought and dramaqueeney and downright bitchy.

So then I drank a whole lot (Z was unhelpful. He'd had a beer before I got home. He didn't really want another one. He didn't want to drink with me. I hate drinking alone. But I decided it was warranted). And then when I was nice and tipsy I got back on the Internet and read what I'd written, and realized how awful it was.
Oh boy.

Yeah I'm an idiot, is what this all means.

Today I woke up with my nose completely clogged and my throat halfway clogged, and have just spent almost two hours trying to restore breathing capacity. I really want to share the (literally!) gory details of it, but I suppose I can't actually blog about boogers, not without crossing some kind of invisible line. And go me! I have no cough syrup, no coughdrops, no decongestant, no sinus pills, no nothing in the house. (Except a six-year-old bottle of Buckley's, which is foul beyond measure and also ineffective as it's beyond it's use-by date by a matter of years not months.)

But. Now that I've taken a whole handful of pain pills, I can close the fingers of my right hand without much problem. It really is mostly sore muscles in my arms and shoulders! Which is awful, because now I feel bad about making such a fuss about the accident report. But the last time I hurt my hand at work I thought nothing of it and didn't fill out a report, and then it hurt for motherfucking months.

Now I want desperately to go back to sleep, but I have to catch that bus in precisely an hour, so I can't.
*weeps* I'm so tired... of being such an idiot...

Oh well. Guess I'll go eat worms.

Date: 2007-01-24 05:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rootsnradicals.livejournal.com
You weren't an idiot! You were expressing your distress, and I actually thought it was sweet that you were so concerned that something had happened to the rink/league/players. Yes, you should have been called, but everyone was so excited about seeing us on the Ch. 2 trailer that they assumed everyone was watching.

Sorry you had such a crappy day and that it ended even worse. I recommend taking it out on someone at the next practice!!!! In a kind, gentle (polite), derby ass-kicking way of course!!!

Date: 2007-01-25 05:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dragonlady7.livejournal.com
*sigh*
Even if I'd had the day off, I don't own a TV. :/

I don't think I want to take it out on anybody, but I do think perhaps I need some hard skating.

If only I could breathe, that would be just the ticket.

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