Whilst doing my day job, not the dishes, laundry or any of the other trivial doodads that make up being a sweet little domestic drone with a nice set of gams, I happened to pinch one of my manly digits, which ended up causing me a WTF moment later in the day, and who doesn’t need one of those to give some perspective to one’s life? Not that getting a part of you pinched, abraded or even a full on and righteous blood sacrifice is a big deal or even out of the ordinary, ordinarily. It’s that the placement of this blood blister gave me a bit of mirth while doing a chore I normally find so soul-suckingly mirthless, I was kinda hoping that Mr Murphy would step in and liven things up a bit.
I think I was correcting a piece of trim that had gone all kitty wampus after Mr Nail Gun had pinned it to the wall. Pneumatic nailers are a big step up from hand nailing, but are fraught with peril. With hammers, you can without any effort at all, smack your fingers and curse a blue streak, but that’s old news compared to the new guys on the block. Pneumatic tools bring their A game and if you are not careful, you might just find a part of you nailed to the part you where nailing. Not that it’s happened to me, mind you. Well, only a little bit.
Quite often, when dealing with wood, it doesn’t like to lay flat against the surface you want it to mate with. Kiln drying and moisture have a way with wood that makes you wonder why we don’t just all build with concrete. So, when Mr P Nailer pins it, sometimes it moves, just a bit, or better yet, you change your mind and want a do-over. I think this time, I wanted a do-over. Got a look at things, had a flash of insight and next thing you know, got my pry bar and the BFP on the job. The BFP concerns a rather large pincher, you’ll have to parse out the rest of it on your own time. I used it to grab the nail and yank it out. If there’s another tool that is “fraught with peril” the BFP is that tool. Its little cousins, the side cutters, pliers, needle nose and others, are sneaky, devious sons of female dogs and quite often prone to being found air born, with a blue streak following it. I think it was the needle nose pliers that bit my finger, just enough to make a nice little blood blister, not enough to throw the stupid thing. Him and I have had our differences enough that I only use ‘em when absolutely necessary.
So you are working along and of course, just as you build up a head of steam, you have to break off, feed yourself and wash the damn dishes. After 2 weeks of doing this and to cope with the injustice of it all, I don’t pay much attention to the process and choose to think about butterflies, flowers and other happy crap. In the middle of this, I am washing a glass cover. My left hand is inside the cover, holding it up, my right hand is getting busy with the green scrubby pad. I see a bit of junk on the cover and scrub it. Now, I like a bit of suds when washing dishes. Keeps you from despairing at just how many dishes are left in the sink. The cover I was washing had a bit of suds on it and as I scrubbed the spot, it didn’t go away. If hard is good, harder is better, right? I bared down on the glass cover and applied a bit of ompf to the scrubber. Yet, the spot remained. I took a break from my happy crap thoughts and had a better look at what I was dealing with. Turns out, I was trying to scrub my blood blister, which was merrily mocking me, from the inside of the glass cover. I had to pause and let out a huge bark of manic laughter. It spooked the dog, so much that he didn’t want to make eye contact with me for the rest of the day. The really ironic part is, I turned out to be my own personal Murphy. Careful what you wish for, you quite often get it. I wouldn’t bend over when that happens. Just sayin’.