This morning, for the first time in 41 years, I slammed the door on my finger. On a scale of one to ten, it was a seven-point-five. Running it under cold water only made it the pain come in bursts and I was certain a nerve had been severed because the finger throbbed all morning. I’m not sure if human digits are designed to withstand the force blunt trauma of solid wood doors.
We had visitors for breakfast so I anxiously tidied up the apartment which was littered with remnants from this week’s bathroom renovation project co-sponsored by Life and Murphy’s Law. As I navigated down the hallway minefield of dirty sponges and buckets of dried grout, I arrived at my double doored- tool closet and yanked them open just to have a solid steel ball the size of a marble clunk me on the top of my head. I thought my skull would slowly shatter in zig zags, the way chicken eggs do in cartoons before the chick hatches.
The ball turned out to be the magnetic bearing which held the closet door closed. I grabbed my head, convinced a small fountain of red would be spurting, my own bloody old faithful. Luckily I didn’t feel the sticky liquid, but I felt sorry for myself anyway, with the one-two punch of the finger and head injury. The tears came when the blood didn’t and just like my five-year-old daughter, I stood there, rubbing the top of my head in a circular motion and saying, “why did this happen?”
I stormed down the hall, thinking I’d be safe in the shower, where I could cry loudly for no apparent reason other than my mysterious and magical magnetic layer under my skin. My whole life I’m a walking, blinking neon bullseye for flying footballs and frisbees, older women tripping on their feet and landing on my knee, and even the rare biker going the wrong way on the Central Park trail!
Then it dawned on me: it’s MERCURY IN RETROGRADE. The planets are to blame – for the injuries and bathroom renovation. Google confirmed this will be in effect until May 22nd, so staying in bed with the laptop for the next three weeks is advised.