Bruised and butt hurt

I'm currently drinking a glass of wine and thinking that maybe I should be sitting on an ice pack. You're probably wondering why one would need an ice pack to sit on unless they had hemorrhoid surgery. Which I did not.  Have no fear, dearest friend!  All in due time. 

Zach went hunting this weekend.  While he was hunting, it was a bit chilly here in good ol San Antonio so I decided I was going to start clearing our yard after doing some thorough research on rattlesnake hibernation. One who is terrified of nope noodles can never been too cautious. Anyways, for those who don't know, Zach and I bought a house.  It's on 1.3 acres and basically an acre of it is all brush...dead trees, rabbits, coyotes, deer, obnoxious pokey mesquite trees, even more obnoxious pokey cacti...

Anyways, I was sitting on the back porch, pondering my life choices and thought "You know what, today is a good day to channel my Pacific Northwest roots and cut some stuff down."  So I did. And it was AWESOME.  Case in point:

It probably looks like a hot mess...because it is.  But I did 95% of that by myself this weekend/week.  All that empty space is where brush and trees were.  I dropped a few mesquite branches on my face, got some nasty scratches but I did a massive amount of work.  I really should have taken a before picture so you can grasp the concept of just how thick it is out there. I even bought a new axe (got some funny looks at Walmart but felt pretty safe walking to my car).  I meant to buy a hack saw but it slipped my mind because I was thinking about the Plumbing-pocolypse....which may be a chapter in a book I will write eventually.

I'm finding that I really enjoy doing yard work when it isn't Satan's A**hole hot outside.  (Don't tell Zach...I don't want him thinking this has the potential to become a regular thing.)

Today I decide that Home Depot isn't too far out of the way from work to home, I'm gonna go buy a saw.  I tell my coworkers because I'm about as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning! My coworker says "Be careful, you don't want to wind up hurting yourself."

Pfft, I've used plenty of axes and saws...I got this. 

In case you were wondering if I possibly chopped off a limb today, the answer is no.  Still got all 11 toes and 9 fingers.

Anyways...a few months back, our friend came over with his new chainsaw and cut down a dead oak tree.  It was covered by the brush but I decided that I was finally going to tackle it.  I chopped one section off this weekend and continuously worked on the top half for a few days. During that time, I had some precious moments to ponder why I didn't just buy a chainsaw? Oh yeah, that's right, I'm a pain in my own ass and against my better judgement was all "Gangster please, you got this. You're gonna show that tree who's boss with that brand new super sharp axe.  You're not even gonna cut off your own limbs...you gonna chop off the tree limbs son. Chainsaws are weak sauce." 

*Side note, I definitely pep talk myself like that.  I'm like Jenny From The Block...but I'm Rachele from County Road.

That thing.  That thing right there is where the good stuff starts.  If you didn't read the first half of this post, you can start here.  You might be confused but that's okay.  

After I had finally separated that giant thing from it's base (probably 8-9 feet long and heavy as all get out), I pulled it out a bit as you can see by the picture above.  You can also see a cactus in the righthand side of this photo.  It's kind of important.  It's been dead long before our friend cut it down so some of the branches have easily fallen off/removed with a swift tug.  I found a branch I thought was sturdy.  I gave said branch a few torques to decide if it was worthy to be my workhorse.  I deemed it usable.  I'd like to say this was my first mistake...but it was probably my third.  My first mistake was not quitting while I was ahead. 

I grabbed on to the branch and started thrusting all my bodyweight back and forth, trying to get it freed from all the other branches that had fallen down/grown around it in the past few months.  With a few heaves and some cursing and grunting, I pulled the section loose and before I could even celebrate, the f*cking limb I was holding on to crumbled in my grip and I fell backwards...Yep.  You guessed it.  Take it in.

I landed ass and hands first into that lovely cactus in the righthand corner of the picture. 

I felt the pain shooting through my gloves first...kind of like "Well what the hell just happened?!" I looked at my glove that was thoroughly impaled with cactus needles.  I attempted to push myself up with one hand and that's when I felt the multiple stabby feelings all around my rear end. 

I hadn't just pushed my hand on it, I straight up sat on that thing like I was plopping down on a nice comfy couch after a long day.  Except that couch was made of spikes and it most definitely wasn't soft.   After I mustered up the courage to get up, I waddled to the house clenching the bottom of my pants like I was a toddler who just pooped themselves.  You know what I'm talking about...when they poop and don't want you to know so they just pull and tug at their paints.  Yeah, I did that. 

After the walk of shame to the house, I did what anyone would do.  I called my mom and took pictures.  I won't post the ones of actual damage to me because I don't need y'all seeing me in my underoos and also, the location was a bit too close to the wobbly bits :D. Thank god for granny panties!  

Some pokeys I pulled out of my tush.

Thankfully my pants took the brunt of the impact.  I showed them to Zach and he suggested that I throw them away...I don't think any amount of plucking will get all those bad boys out.  

On that note, I'm gonna go rest this swollen and sore butt. 

That's it for this episode of "My hot mess of a life."

Xoxo

What. Even. Is. This.

Y'all.  I can't even today.  I debated on writing about my doctors appointment I went to on Monday because although it's hilarious, it was also mortifying.  Then I decided against it.  So I basically had my mind made up that you weren't going to be able to laugh at my expense.

Then today happened.  Someone upstairs was like "You don't want to write about how you almost impaled your doctor with a projectile speculum? That's fine.  I'll make it so you accidentally flush your glasses down an automatic toilet filled with your own pee and someone else's skid marks. Done. Now you have to tell your stories."

Interested? If not, click that little "x" on your tab and don't look any farther. If you are interested still, simmer down, buckle up and grab some tissues because my week has been a doozy.

After my last doctors appointment, I was informed I needed a follow-up.  I'll spare you the details and just give you the funny stuff.  I will need to tell you that it was a lady appointment because that's pertinent information.

I....I don't even know how to start this.

So there I was, laying on a bed, wrapped in those god awful giant paper towels the doctors give you to cover your wobbly bits... (which makes NO SENSE to me because you're gonna be inspecting those wobbly bits anyways. You expect me to be modest?  I digress.)

So there I was ( I realize I've said this twice...but I don't know how else to even...), on the elevated bed in the doctors office, covered with a giant paper towel and my feet in some stirrups like I was going to some weird rodeo.

"Alright Mrs. Riley. I'm going to need you to relax your butt.  You're super tense and it's making it difficult to insert the speculum."

"I'm trying. I can think of a million different places I'd rather be than having my lady bits in your face. This is super uncomfortable."

The doctor was having NONE of my sass. Which, I suppose I wouldn't have it either if I had to look at meat curtains all day long.

"Okay, I'm going to insert the smaller speculum since you seem to be having a problem with the larger one."

Yep.  Sure do.

After she inserted the smaller and second FREEZING COLD METAL DUCK BILL THING up where the sun don't shine, I immediately tensed up again.  This isn't Guam.  It's chilly here.  Inside and out. No pun intended.  But seriously, I wasn't aware places even still used the metal ones. I thought they were all plastic.  And if you are using metal, why isn't it in a cute little heated box or something. Why did you just pull it out of the ice chest?

"Ma'am.  Please. You're going to need to relax.  I can't do anything until you put your butt down.  Alright, that's better. Now I'm going to insert the swab and move stuff around, you'll feel slightly..."

The words weren't even out of her mouth when I felt the pressure release from the lady cave. In a split second, I felt better, saw her duck out of the way and throw her arms to her chest. I couldn't even wrap my brain around what just happened.  I launched that sucker out of the taco cabana and straight at my doctor.

"Oh. My. God.  I AM SOOO SORRY!!! I've never had that happen before. I don't even...what even. Oh my god.  Are you alright?"

She responded with a frazzled "I've been doing this for 28 years and I also have never had that happen before.  I don't think we're gonna continue with the exam.  You can come back and see me in two weeks please."

Oops. She left and said to meet her in her office.  After I dressed myself while simultaneously blushing (I didn't even know I could do that anymore), I sat in her office with my head down like I had just been called to the principals office.  She sauntered in and said "Wow.  Now that was an interesting appointment wasn't it?"  to which I responded with "I really am sorry my vagina projectile shot a metal speculum at your face.  It won't happen again...I don't think."

She said "Well now you can tell your doctor you shot a speculum at me! He'll like that." - She was laughing as was I.

"Great, how did you know I wanted to tell Dr. McSteamy that I'm able to shoot foreign objects out of my front butt at people's faces. Maybe I should move back to Guam and practice with ping pong balls. I know there's a market for it there."

We had some good chuckles...then I left and immediately called my mom...still blushing because...good lord am I going to be able to spit out some kids if these fertility treatments work.

This was Monday.  It's Thursday.  If you want to have an exciting life, be my friend. You can live vicariously through me.
_____________________________________________________

I have accidentally been leaving my glasses at work because I leave during the day time and don't need them but I definitely need them for my drive to work at 5 a.m.  Which doesn't help me when I leave them on the coffee pot overnight.  My eyesight isn't bad, it's just not great so I try to avoid driving in the dark as often as possible.

Today I thought to myself "You know what, I'm going to put my glasses on my collar so I don't forget them. I can't forget them if they're around my neck."

Fast forward to the end of the work day, I literally have 40 minutes left and I have to use the urination station something fierce.  So I choose the first stall.  That's my favorite. It has the highest toilet seat and I seem to be a lot taller than most of the females I encounter.  It makes me feel like I'm sitting on a throne.  Okay, not really, however I don't feel like I'm doing a trust fall when I sit down to get down to business.  I always inspect the toilet before going. I think it's important.

Today I notice someone had left skid marks (this is also pertinent information for the story you're about to read).  Usually, I would move to another stall because ew.  Today, I decided not to because I was having one of those "Good lord I'm going to pee myself if I don't unbutton these pants at this very moment" kind of things.  The toilets are also automatic and super ridiculously strong.  Like the ocean probably loses a 1000 gallons of water for one flush (not really, but you get my drift)...so what took place in there prior to my visit must have been...well you know.

After I finished relieving myself, I knocked my glasses out of my shirt and into the toilet.

"OHHHH SHIT. OH MY GOD NO. NO NO NO." - I said half of that, the other half I was thinking in my head.

Then came the bargaining....do I reach in there? No, someone else's skids and my pee are in there...but ugh, oh god I paid 300 bucks for these.  I'm gonna do it.  Ugh this is so gross.

I stood up, pulled my underoos and pants up bracing myself for what I was going to have to do...then I turned around and in a split second, the toilet flushed and they were gone.

"OH MY GOD. NO."

I proceeded to tell my coworkers while laughing and crying from laughing so hard.  Then I felt like I needed to do the right thing and tell maintenance what had happened, in the event there's a huge blockage or something, they'll know it's because I flushed my glasses.

I flagged down Mike, the head maintenance guy and recounted my story to him while blushing (for the second time this week) and I could tell he was having a hard time wrapping his head around my woes.  After he stopped laughing, he looked at me and said "You realize you aren't going to get your glasses back, right? You didn't reach in there, did you?  Hey Steve! Come over here and talk to Rachele. Now tell him what you told me."

Then I had to tell the other maintenance guy what happened...he was also dumbfounded at my sheer luck and after HE STOPPED laughing, he got silent and said "Now you know you're not gonna see those glasses ever again.  Just so we're clear. Also, you probably wouldn't want to wear them anyways.  You didn't stick your hand in there did you?"

I replied with "I just want y'all to know I just peed in there.  It was someone else's poop stuck to the toilet wall but I really had to pee.  Also, I thought about reaching for them...but the automatic flusher beat me to it and now I'm actually really grateful because that would have been gross. Even if it was my own poop, still would have been nasty."


And now you're either really grossed out...or your stomach hurts from laughing.  Or probably both.  And just a note for future references...If your glasses aren't on your face, don't take them into the bathroom.

That's it for this saga of Riley Writes.  Now I'm going to drink wine.

Xoxo,
Rachele