... About Mild Head Injuries

Reader, I'm sure you remember almost exactly one year ago when I posted about how my relationship with Ice was on the skids.  Well, Ice is at it again.

We've been getting along fairly well all winter.  Ice has been a constant presence in my parking lot, and together we've successfully imitated the Tom Cruise Risky Business slide more times than I can count (although, to be fair to Tom, I was wearing pants all but one of those times).  I've been fairly impressed with my ability to remain upright every time I've walked out to my car in the dark.

That is, until last night.

I was coming home from a night of wild shenaniganing with Maren and Lexie.  I'd stopped on the way to my apartment to buy a drink, because even though it was really really late (nearly 10 pm, if you can believe it!) I was craving a little Dr P.  So as I was walking from my car to my apartment, I noticed a bit of shininess on the pavement in front of me.  It was unusually warm yesterday - Lexie was even wearing flipflops during all of our crazy aimless wandering/time-killing-while-we-waited-for-our-movie-to-start downtown.  So of course, I assumed that the bit of shiny was just wet.

I was wrong.  It was Ice.

The moment Ice and I met, it threw me up into the air and brought me down directly on the back of my head.  Meanwhile, my drink slipped from my hand and landed all over my pants and, unbeknownst to me until I was looking for them later, my keys flew out of my jacket pocket and halfway back across the parking lot.

Reader, as you know, I am a certified hippopotmonostrosequipedalianist, and as such I like to always use the best word to describe any given situation.  I don't use "sad" if I can get away with using "morose" instead; I rarely say "that's too bad" in lieu of "that's most unfortunate."  Oftentimes, there is no ideal word for any given situation, but luckily there is a perfect word to describe what I was feeling at the moment the back of my head introduced itself to the parking lot, and the word is: "pain."

And that "pain" not only remained throughout the night, but intensified as the hours ticked on.  Now the sensation radiating throughout my skull can be described in a plethora of ways, including but not limited to: "ow", "ugggghhhh...", "I want my mommy", or "make it stop, please make it stop!"

I blame it on Ice, of course.  Because my utter lack of coordination is obviously not to blame.  No, it's all Ice's fault.  That much is clear to me.  Although not much else is at the moment, because ever since I hit my head I've discovered my judgement has been compromised.  For example, before going to sleep last night, as my brain was throbbing, I reached over and set my alarm to get myself up early today.  WHY?  I don't have to be anywhere until 11 o'clock today!  Question: Why would any reasonable person do that?  Answer: Blame it on Ice.

I hope Ice's effect on my ability to make decisions isn't long-lasting, or else the next thing you know you might be watching TV and spot me jumping up and down on Oprah's couch like a loon.