I'll start in the middle of the story. Sis, S-N-L (sister in law), and I were at my house during my lunch break today. Sis stopped what she was doing, looked at me, and asked, "Do you always have this much drama in your life." My reply was simply, "Yes, I do." And that is the honest truth.
Now, back to the beginning. Sis, Cousin, and I always have lunch together on Wednesdays. Today, Cousin couldn't come, but through a series of events, S-N-L joined us. I had to come home on my lunch break today to get a box of Christmas Cards for work. (sidebar: We get our Christmas bonuses tomorrow and I thought that it would be nice to put them in cute Christmas cards. The drama there is that I've been meaning to take the cards to work all week, but have forgotten them every morning. Thus, I was at my house in the middle of the day.) They came with me (S-N-L had not seen my new living quarters). As we were walking in the house, one of the three cats ran into the house. She jumped up onto the counter. Fearing that she was going to help herself to the 1/2 dozen Krispie Kremes on the counter, I went after her.
That was when I saw it. A lizard. It was a tiny little thing, but a lizard nonetheless. Add lizards to the list of "things that make me scream." As soon as I saw it, I screamed and ran back to the front door! Sis and s-n-l were laughing hysterically at me at this point. I eased my way back to the counter, got the cat, and let her out. By this point, Sis and s-n-l were examining the situation more closely. Sis grabbed an empty coffee can out of the sink in hopes that she could scoop the lizard into the can and set him free. The lizard had different ideas. As soon as the little fellow sensed he was being urged into the can, he moved. He only moved about an inch across the counter, but it was enough to send me running and screaming again! I gathered my wits about me, and grabbed a straw. I know. It's ridiculous, but it was something small enough to ensure I didn't injure the poor little thing, but long enough that I would never have to get too close to it either. Yuck! I poked at it, but that sent it running further; straight up the handle of my coffee pot. I poked a little more, and it ran across the counter. Each time I saw it move, I screamed bloddy-murder.
The lizard ran across the counter, into the basket of potatoes, out of the potatoes across the spices, and into the pile of mail, all the while with me prodding it along with the straw and with Sis ready to catch it in the coffee can. It was then that Sis looked at me and asked the infamous question. "Do you always have this much drama?" I simply replied, "Yes, I do." I have referred to some of my dramatix in my Myspace blogs. But honestly, it is something every day. Usually, several "somethings" every day. I don't know why. There are actually so many little dramatic moments that I go through in a day's time, that I don't even recognize half of them. But I digress...
After about five minutes of running the poor little lizard across the counter, I finally stepped back and let the my girls do the work. S-n-l finally gets the lizard into the can, but dropped them both to the ground. The lizard flopped out of the can and was flung about a foot into the air. Of course, I was screaming again. However, Sis put on quite a show. She was running in place, jumping up and down, and screaming her head off! It was so funny. Anyhow, the lizard is too scared to move, so s-n-l covered him up with the can. We opened the back door and she kicked the can and the lizard outside. They went sailing across the back porch and landed at the edge of the woods. When the door was shut, I realized that the lizard had left us a souvenier. There was its tail, squiggling on the floor. Yuck! S-n-l was the heroine througout the entire ordeal. She got a paper towel, picked up the tail and threw it in the trash. Poor lizard. He is probably outside suffering from chest pains and about to go into cardiac arrest by now. Roommate's daughter informed me that it would take several days for it to grow its tail back.
Here's a little run-down of the rest of my drama. There is drama at work, but I'll not get into that. Let me just say that the one person I ever have to answer to called me and made a huge decision without asking me what I thought or how I thought it might effect the business. Anyhow, I that's enough of that; I said I wasn't going to talk about the yucky stuff at work. Yesterday, I was walking down the hall at work. There was a cart in the hallway. I knew it was there; I had just had my foot propped on it. I took a few steps and then turned around to get something, then changed my mind mid-stream and turned back around. Somehow in all of the "hoop-la" I slung my hand into the handle on the cart and nearly broke my thumb. I have a bruise. About a month ago, I was getting ready to go to a funeral. I had about three cups of coffee that morning, and Ex had called to see if he could catch a ride with me from the funeral home to the cemetary. I was a nervous wreck on a serious caffine high. In the craziness of trying to get out the door, I slammed my hand in the car door. For a minute, I thought I was going to be sick. The top of my hand swelled and bruised immediately. I never had it ex-rayed, but I am pretty sure that something got broken that day. I still have some swelling in my fingers.
And there's more... As one of my girls at work was walking the kids over from school today, a sixth grader felt it necessary to inform the entire group (ages 5-12) that one of his friends found a condem at school today. I tried to hush him up as fast as I could, but the damage had been done. The next thing I know, there is an 11 yr old girl in my face asking me, "What's a condem?" I gave her the most obvious answer that I could come up with, "Ask your mom and dad when you get home today." That was a conversation I was not going to have. I could have had a very professional and mature conversation with her about it, but in actuality, that conversation is the God-given responsibility of her parents. I did tell her mom to be expecting the question tonight.
So, you see... It is always something with me. I can't drive down the road without seeing a bicycler wreck into the ditch. My burning cigarette falls out of the ashtray all the time. I trip over my own two feet so many times during the day that I loose count. But this is my life. I love my life. I have an amazing ability to make it all the way through my day with a smile on my face, despite the drama. I guess my clumsiness and my dramatix are just a lovely part of my charm.
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