On Tuesday I was getting out of the car after a long day at the office, a 20 minute drive to the grocery store, in rush hour traffic in a car that was sitting in 100+ degree temperatures all day, when I heard a snap. The underwire broke in my bra.
It was at least 130 degrees in the garage and I had to unload several bags of groceries when the snapped wire began pinching the smallest section of skin on my boob. I was hollaring for someone in the house to come out into the garage and grab the damn bags but both the Bug & Shark had a mysterious temporary hearing disorder that has yet to be diagnosed.
So there I was, holding seven bags of groceries with my two arms, my boob in peril, sweating profusely and dropping F bombs faster than the Japanese on D-Day. I managed to turn the door knob with my left ring finger, swing the door open with a swift kick of the right foot, thus slamming the door into the drywall and leaving a perfectly round indentation.
I dropped the bags on the kitchen counter, walked into my bedroom, pulled my shirt up over my head and threw it on the bed and began trying to unhook my bra. But as I reached behind me, I would push the broke underwire even further into my flesh creating more pain.
Finally I roared like a lioness in the African wilderness, dropped one more F bomb for good measure, screamed something about being sick of shit, and proceeded to rip the bra off. I think my skin has taken on a greenish tint.....
2 comments:
Where are you? Did everyone survive? Is your skin still greenish in tint? Have you dropped more f-bombs?
I miss you! I'm going to start blogging again, I promise.
I was unaware of this real great blog.
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