So, I got up this morning.
Opened my bedroom door.
And stepped into water.
I slip-slopped my way down the hall and around to the kitchen. It was water, water, everywhere; water running the full length of the hall, and all over the kitchen. The hall toilet (they call it a “powder room” in the magazines) was stopped up and running, full-tilt.
I unstopped the toliet, used every dirty towel in the hamper (they’re in the washing machine with hot water and bleach right now) to mop up the water and then went back over the floor with a disinfectant. I kept thinking about my bare feet, in that toliet water, the whole time I did it.
I was just sitting down to breakfast when my mama presented me with a bleeding foot. She had somehow or other managed to get her hands on a pipe (I kid you not) which she dropped on her 89-year-old foot. I washed and bandaged the foot, called the doc, who graciously worked her in, and we’re all set to go.
To top it off, I have gum surgery scheduled for myself this afternoon.
And it’s not even noon yet.
I’m telling you all this because it seems like every time I say something in the com boxes, the person I’m answering replies, “I didn’t mean ….” as if I’ve accused them of something. I’m not arguing about that. I guess I’ve been short and accusatory. But believe me, I didn’t mean it.
I’ve been sandwiching blogging in between mopping and bandaging and thinking about my bare feet in that toliet water, and I guess it’s made me gritchy. (I haven’t let myself think about the toliet water all over my floors. I’ve already disinfected once, and will steam it later. If I think too much, I’ll start ripping up tile.)
Anyway, this is an apology/explanation to everyone I’ve spoken too harshly to. Mea culpa.
Now, off to the docs.