Even Less Fun Than It Appears

Here is how it went:

This always seems much funnier in cartoons.

Me: Whoa... oh, oh, AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! [Incredibly foul word, yelled loudly and emphatically with great passion and volume.]

Kerri: What was... Holy [slightly less foul word, because she is a lady]!!

Me: [Piteous moaning, punctuated by repetition of the same word, but with less passion and volume.]

Kerri: Are you okay?

Me: I think so. I can still feel my toes. They hurt. So do my knees. And my butt. Does the ceiling look really bad?

Kerri: It doesn't look as good as it did before. Are you sure you're okay?

Me: It's only an assumption at this point, but aside from the incredible pain and the blood seeping through my pants, I appear to be okay.

Kerri: You're sure?

Me: Yes.

Kerri: Then, can I take a picture?

Me: [More moaning, a few more oaths and foul words.] Yeah. I guess. This will probably be funny later. I'm glad I wore pants today.


My generous neighbor–whom I now hate–gave us 100 square feet of very nice hardwood flooring that she had leftover from a job at her house. So, I had to install it. The only place that seemed reasonable, and was under 100 square feet, was in the upstairs hallway of our 200 year old house where nothing ever goes smoothly or without bloodshed.

I considered just leaving it like this, but the blood-stains clashed with the walls.

Naturally, this simple flooring project evolved into an elaborate horror show of ripping up old flooring and then, in a surprise turn of events, slipping on the nail-studded exposed floor joists and falling through the ceiling in a hilariously painful manner. I didn't go all the way through thanks to a strategically placed stud that allowed me to break my fall with my crotch.

See how hilarious my knee looks?

Warning, you just looked at a disgusting picture. Sorry. I should have warned you sooner.

So far, the free flooring my neighbor–whom I used to like a lot–gave us, has cost us over $250 in materials, not including medical supplies. And we're just getting started.

Next time, she can keep her left-overs.