Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Holding Pattern

In years past my Christmas Eve day was often a flurry of last minute wrapping the crap out of gifts, five trips to the grocery store and cleaning my brokedown palace of a house in anticipation of a traditionally major family celebration, the preparation of which rendered me just shy of being Liza Minnelli crazy.

Today, however, I'm settled in front of a Christmas episode of "That Girl"  while eating celery and drinking a Pinterest recommended fat cell flush of ice water, cucumber, lemon, lime and mint. Not because I'm attempting a different kind of nervous breakdown--but because I broke my ankle two weeks ago in an epic fall in the icy teacher's parking lot and--in the process--lost most of my dignity and self respect. And most of my mobility.

It's a terrible time to be sidelined and it's tempting to express my despondence by lying on the sofa huddled in a slanket while hopped up on butterscotch schnapps and Tramadol. Instead I'm crutching about with my black boot which is the fashion equivalent of pantyhose and white sandals and somehow getting it all done.

I'd love to whine about everything I can't do for the next two months, but I'm too medicated to move and it's not the season for whining anyway. Merry Christmas, readers. The art of blogging may be dying, but I'm going to limp along regardless. Take care.


  1. After having spent the afternoon making my husband's favorite cookies, I'm envious of your enforced inactivity. But not really . . . probably.

    While I didn't break a bone, I also fell victim to the ice we had here --losing control of my car in an intersection and slamming into the curb. Shook my daughter up a bit, but the car limped into her school parking lot, where I did lose some dignity because I had to wait for a tow truck and my husband in the lobby, still in my pjs. That'll teach me, huh? Plus, the auto place called me with a $2500 price tag, just for hitting a curb!

  2. Yikes! I'm terribly sorry. I hope the pain soon eases and that you adopt a slower-paced lifestyle with an eye toward Radical Self-Care. Failing that, start using a crutch as a weapon and fantasize that it's various things, like a light sabre, a machine gun, a samurai sword, a javelin, one of those jousting things, etc. Smack a few of those huge guys at your place just once and they'll fall into line.

  3. I hope things got more cheerful--celery on Christmas Eve sounds particularly glum.

  4. Oh no! I hope your ankle heals quickly.


Be nice. It's not as hard as it sounds.