My Paraskevidekatriaphobia

My Paraskevidekatriaphobia

Why I think Friday the 13th unluckiness is REAL.
Rough week at work, Friday turning out to be pretty good … regardless what date it shows on the calendar.

Getting ready for a hot date with the Kitten, washing some clothes. My washer is old, and if it’s off balance it will shake the shingles off the roof. And Friday night it was of biblical proportions the spin cycles was. So I ran down the stairs in my boxers … almost making it to the bottom when my foot somehow hit wrong on the step, with my full 200 lbs and over extended my calf muscle. &@##$%$ it hurt!
Screaming a lot of F-words, and S-words, and G-words and SOB-words … I had still had the house shaking from the washer. I hobbled over and flipped up the lid, stopping the spin, pulled the knob. Then I sat on the washer and cried. Big ol’ grown man mumbling “ow-eee ow-eee, (sniff) … son of a …. giggle” because it started to get funny.
I hobbled back upstairs and found ONE ibuprofen. I then sat down and text’d C.K. “Ouch!!!!! I hurt myself!” ….. then she called right away.
I told her I pulled a muscle bad, and I guess she thought I said “crotch” and she was starting to worry that I had pulled a hamstring or something and that meant no … well, you know … “ I said NO, not crotch! Calf!
So, I’m hobbling around the house with a bag of frozen French cut green beans on my leg. I had to cancel my inventory. There’s no way I’m going up and down ladders today.

So as C.K. goes into balance some high level state budget thingy or something at work, I’m sitting here, elevated and having coffee … only on my last refill I fell on the stairs again … and the foot below the calf is now all crampy and sore. UGH. STAIRS OF DEATH.
C.K. told me to sit down, turn on my BF Vietnam game and blow sh*t up for awhile. Perhaps I will.
I need to put the green beans back into the freezer first.