When Nature Attacks

I currently live 1.5 miles away from the beach. You would think that a beach lovin' girl like myself would be there all the time, but up until a few weeks ago I had only gone a few times to dip my toes in the Pacific. For Shame! But you see I have an excuse, about a year and a half ago my much beloved blue swimsuit top got left behind at a hot tub in Gatlinburg. It was thrown off in what may or may not have been some good, clean fun *cough, cough*.

But after a romantic fourth of July on the beach, I knew it was about damn time I got to go swimming. I don't think it matters if you are the sexiest woman in the planet,there is nothing more uncomfortable than swimsuit shopping. The first swimsuit you try on always ends up being the most unflattering. My first choice made me look like I was smuggling the bearded lady from the circus under my swimsuit. The second choice put me in danger of a wardrobe malfunction, because my nonexistent chest couldn't hold it up. So after a few near break downs in the dressing room, just kidding, I found the most perfect red, Hawaiian skirtina.

One morning I packed up all my stuff, and because I'm on a health kick, I decided to walk to the beach. It took me 30 minutes to get to the beach, and in no time I was running towards the beautiful, blue water. I had been swimming about ten minutes, when I noticed something glimmery in the water. (Is glimmery a word? ) I thought it was a piece of trash, and I was really upset that people would litter at the beach! And yes sometimes my dog is guilty of peeing over the water drainage grate that says," Do Not Litter, Drains Directly to Ocean." But even SHE would never litter. I am also very squeamish, and I could not stomach the idea of the trash brushing up against my delicate legs, so I swam a few meters opposite the tide to avoid it.

I was swimming in the ocean thinking, "What a wonderful day I'm having, Yay Life!" The second those thoughts entered my head, I felt a jarring pain in my heal. I didn't have any clue what had happened, but my survival instinct kicked in, and I ran to the shore. Many people have asked me why I didn't stay, look around, and figure out what had happened. Honestly and Irrationally, I thought I might have been bitten by a shark. WHO WOULD STICK AROUND TO DOUBLE CHECK THAT IT WAS A SHARK. I was bleeding profusely, and I left a line of eerie, bloody footprints in the sand.

I am now in the worst pain that I can ever remember, I am a mile and a half from home, I don't have my car with me, and I can't really walk. I called Adam at work, and I said something along the lines of, "I'm going to die on this beach, I'm going to die on this beach, but if you can't get off of work early, I think I can survive for a few more hours!" (See I'm such an understanding wife). The problem is Adam walks to work. He would have to take the bus to get to me, get the car keys from me, walk home, get the car, and then pick me up. You have no idea how much I was hating my life at that moment. I was comforted knowing he was on his way, but the pain was shooting up my entire body. I couldn't even see the wound, because it was so caked in blood and sand.

About this time, I started doing an imitation of the the woman who fell off a four foot platform while she was stomping grapes. If you haven't seen the video you can watch it here, the action starts at 52 seconds. I know it's wrong to love that video, but I have watched it a million times and it gets me every time. Don't forget to watch the news anchors' reactions at the end. So maybe my pain was punishment for taking so much pleasure in someone else's agony. But anyway, my pain was causing me to make the arf, arf, arfing sound, I'm rolling around in circles, I'm getting sand in places sand should never go, and I'm cussing a lot. I kept saying the GD word, I hate that word, and typically I would never say it. But that day, when I couldn't stop saying it, after I would yell it out I would apologize to God. . What a crazy scene.

After what was the longest 30 minutes of my life, I saw a slightly pudgy man running Baywatch style across the beach. It took me a few seconds to realize that the slightly pudgy man was my man! He looked so handsome, so gallant, and so brave! I didn't even notice that he was wearing THAT outfit that doesn't match, even though I have told him many times that it didn't match. Men. Adam helped me limp up the beach, and then up 30 concrete stairs (Yes, I counted). And then he left me sitting on the sidewalk, covered in sand, while he walked home to get the car. People were walking by giving me the oddest looks, as I sat there for 45 minutes arfing and GDing.

Finally, my knight in mismatched clothes, pulled up on his noble stead Homer the Honda. He cleaned off my foot, made me a bed on the couch, and fed me painkillers. I spent the next two days on painkillers. The next day my foot had turned blue and red. A week later it was inflamed and itchy, and now my skin is flaking off. But actually it's a lot better now. After a lot of research, I figured out I had been stung by a sting ray. The hole is clearly visible. Which was probably what was glimmering in the water. And now I will post a gross picture of my foot,which you can feel free to skip over.
I feel a small sense of pride in the fact that I have been stung by a sting ray. Only 1,500 people get stung by stingrays worldwide every year. And the one day I pick to go to the beach, it happens to me. FML.

365 days ago (give or take):

I immediately went into panic mood, because I find it impossible to keep my shit together like ever. When we got home I ripped through the house like a tornado. Flying through papers, files, and documents screeching, "They are going to FIRE ME" and "They are going to think I'm FLAKY!"

I've said it before, and I will say it again job hunting sucks.