Top 10 Things I Haven’t Done Since The Crash

10. Wash my hair. Admittedly, and perhaps frighteningly, that’s not so unusual.
9. Worn clothing without an elastic waistband. When your hands are barely functional, you’ve got to have easy access. And I don’t mean that in any way sexual. Scouter’s still a jackass.
8. Exercise. Again, not so unusual.
7. Worn makeup. While I desperately need it, I couldn’t endure the pain of water and pressure on my ripped up hands to wash it off.
6. Gone more than four hours without Tylenol. I think I bought the type that contains crack as the main ingredient.
5. Gone more than 12 hours without Neosporin. I couldn’t find it yesterday morning and I totally freaked out. I was frantically opening drawers and cabinets with a wild look in my eyes, asking my kids if they knew where it was, and muttering insane things like, “Mommy is VERY upset.” Is there topical crack?
4. Homework. No excuse really; just haven’t wanted to do it. Fortunately for me, the server at school crashed last night and everyone may get an extension. I have no personal knowledge of the problem but I’m told it was an issue for others.
3. Had a reasonable conversation with my husband. The bulk of his concern has been a text message on Tuesday morning to see how I was feeling. When I said I felt like I’d been hit by a truck, his response was along the lines of, “Yeah, I thought it would hurt.” Thanks for that compassion, honey.
2. Drank wine or any other alcohol. I worry that it may conflict with all the crack. And it may also have something to do with a four day binge with my college roommate last weekend – more on that topic once I recover sufficiently to properly communicate our antics. Assuming I remember any of them at this point.

And the number one thing I haven’t done since the crash is…

DRUM ROLL please!

1. Gone out of the house without a ginormous band aid on my chin. It is all the rage in Paris this season, and I must say – not only is it a very attractive accessory but also a scintillating conversation piece.
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