Your cocktail sir,





2002-09-11 - 10:24 p.m.

I learned some things tonight. First, I still can keep my cool around a crisis. Second, that butter should not ever be used on a burn, thatís an old wives tail. Third, Antís are relentless creatures and not to be trifled with.

This evening I was preparing my dinner. It involved zucchini, hamburger, sauces, and baking. Itís one of my favorite dishes. And easy to make. I donít have hands of asbestos. Which is lucky, because then Iíd give everyone cancer and my family would be faced with a difficult decision come time to dispose of my remains. I wasnít careful with the dish and I managed to spill boiling zucchini down my knuckle and onto my fingers. It hurt like hell. I had been in the middle of an IM conversation when the unfortunate spillage occurred. I put my hand under cool running water, which actually helped. Until I pulled it out. I was blistering. And it was painful. So I wrapped my hand in a towel, ended my IM conversation (a bit abruptly which was rude, but I had extenuating circumstances) and tried to calmly think of what to do. So I called my mom. Who told me to ice it, not but butter on it as that would lock the heat in making the burn worse plus the salt in the butter (which I have unsalted butter for baking thatís not really important right now) would be damaging. So, I did what she said. And it was fine in the ice. But the moment it was released from itís icy womb the throbbing would start up again. Plus the space between my fingers was sticking together and it was ugly. So I decided to go to the doctor. I have great health insurance, and itís stupid not to utilize it. I think I was still in a little bit of shock. I actually couldnít drive. It was crazy. I have a manual transmission and there was no use of my right hand, I couldnít grip anything (there goes my social life). So, Iím back to icing it. If itís still bad in the morning, I think Iíll try to make an appointment. I can actually take Public Transit fairly easy. As Iím back in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess that I made, Iím noticing a lack of the ants. Itís been longer than the pizza incident and really, there should be a swarm of them like before. Nothing. Iím feeling very comforted by all this, especially as the unburned portions of my hand are now suffering from frostbite. So I swing open the doors to the sink cabinet to toss the paper towels away. And my garbage pail is a swarming black mass. Really, it was more disturbing than the cockroach. (which a coworker claims is actually some sort of Japanese beetle that is popular in these older areas but since I smooshed the thing itís kind of a moot point). Really though, this was more disturbing than the convoy. I thought I was safe! I thought things were good! But no, I have a useless hand and a undersink full of ants.

Itís all sometimes almost too much. But I did manage to get the can outside, no doubt dropping the little buggers every which way. There are still a lot of them in and around the kitchen. But tomorrow I will go and get some things to take care of them, once and for all. This is war. Real war. I was complacent. I thought the skirmish was the final battle. But now, well. Iím wiser. And scarred. And coming for them.

previous - next

Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

- - 2007-07-11

Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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