Gravity ©

Sigh
I write a post two day ago talking about how shit happens and wouldn’t you know it.
Shit happened.

On a typical day here I am usually running around like a chicken with its head cut off doing other peoples bidding along with what ever is on my menu.
This year I have decided to get my place looking a little different and not as dated.
That’s why I painted for a fresh look and am now thinking what I could do with the kitchen besides a new working dishwasher.
I am also clearing up the basement to build a laundry room for the washer dryer I am getting in September.
Yes, I have a time line otherwise I will procrastinate until the year 2050.

At the same time I am trying to decorate while incorporating my love for plants through out the house.
The idea is to find a way make 50 pots into 30 pots without getting rid of any plants.
So I was thinking creating community pots with different plants in each for variety and put them around the house.
They would take up less space and less fucken watering for me; I go through 30 gallons of it every Friday.

So Friday afternoon I was cooking in the kitchen and gardening in the basement.
I picked up this heavy clay 14-inch pot at the store the other day and was now in the basement filling it with soil.
After filling it to where I needed it to be, I put in a large aloe Vera plant that I have.
It was just then that the phone rang so I held the pot with one hand and answered the phone with the other.
It was my mother, as usual.
She calls at least 5 times a day for reasons that aren’t even reasons.

I tell her I was busy and hang up the phone.
The whole time I was on the phone I was holding the pot with my messed up arm but most of the weight was still on the worktable.
I was basically just balancing it there.
What I should have done was push the pot farther and completely on the table but that’s too easy to do.

As soon as I had both hands free again I made sure the plant was in the pot properly then stepped back to look at it to make sure it was straight.
The problem was that it was still teetering on the edge and it slipped off of the table.
Plant, soil and pot were about forty pounds and heading to the ground.

Don’t you love when there are some things that seem to go by in a blur and some seem to take forever to finish?
Like if you are having a good time and all of a sudden you notice you have to go.
It didn’t seem like its been 4, 5 or six hours but it has and now you have to stop.

Then there are those times when you’re doing something you don’t really want to do, like work and it seems like the day will never end.
Or say something dramatic happens that seems so slow down to time to almost a crawl but in actual fact time always travels at the same speed, it’s our minds that process things according urgency.

For example, say you’re in bed masturbating and are about ready to cum but the phone rings, your brain processes that and says fuck the phone.
Say the house is on fire all around you, well now your brain has a sense of urgency and just can’t say “Fuck it” so the hand has to move faster to cum before you go.

It’s the same with everything else.
I remember one time when I was at the pub and someone bumped the waitress and a full beer bottle fell off her tray.
My eyes saw it all happen and sent the message to my brain.
My brain processed the information quickly and ordered my hand to shoot out in an attempted to grab the beer before it hit the floor but I had already had a few and was off target a bit and grabbed her boob instead.

Undaunted by the failure of the first attempt my brain in a split millisecond sent up the knee trying to deflect the bottle up so the hand could take another stab at it but again I missed, kneeing the bouncer in the balls who was coming to the aid of the waitress instead.
Still not deterred, the knee straightened out then kicking up the foot.
This time the foot connected with the bottom of the bottle sending it up where my hand grabbed it by the neck saving it by the neck.
I passed it to the suprised wai5tress who was still in shock; probably at the speed of my reactions

The brain determines how fast your reflexes will be and what body part is assigned to the task.
Now as fast as the brain is to react and commit the body to what it must do, the body can only go as fast as it can.
As we get older the muscles get kind of stretched out and not as flexible as they used to be.
Sure they may be able to move as fast but the break pads are a little worn out so stopping becomes a problem even when the brain screams out in your head to STOP!!!!!!!

To make matters more complicated your brain is in control of the rest of the limbs to your body.
The more urgent the situation, the faster your brain acts.
The less urgency, well, who cares if I move at all?

So when I stepped back from the table the pot was thinking if it should stay on the table or fall off and my eyes told my brain that it was ok so it didn’t give the command to the hands to push it a little more on the table.
As the brain was receiving this information the ears picked up the sound of phone rang again and the head began turning towards the sound but not before the eyes saw the shift of the pot as it began to topple off of the table.
The eyes went to send the message to the brain but the ears managed to get theirs off first so when the brain finally got the eyes message, the pot was clearly falling to the ground.

The brain not being one to give up sent out the order to the hands but they were to slow to react because they had already committed to picking up the phone.
Just then, history provided a proven solution to the problem and the brain sent out the command.
Without hesitation the foot went out to kick up the pot.




What the fuck was my brain thinking.
It’s not like it was a marshmallow floating to the floor I could play Hacky Sac with but a forty-pound pile driver that planted my foot to the cement floor.
Did I mention I was wearing my sandals?
Yes, it’s summer so I was compelled to wear my open toe footwear to that I could wiggle my toes freely.
They aren’t doing much wiggling any more but the dangling there freely is a success.

There was no force in the world that could have stopped what happened next.

Fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Everyone heard it for blocks around.
My phone started ringing again, it’s smashed somewhere in the basement.
I know what pain is as I have been in all sorts of it.
I won’t say this was the worse I have ever felt because it wasn’t but it was the second worse.
My toes are not broken; they’re crushed.

WHY?

Because I stuck my foot under the pot when my stupid fucken brain told me too.
If you were to say “stick your foot out to I could whack it with a sledgehammer”, I’d tell you to fuck off.
Let the fucken sledgehammer slip off of the table and sure as hell I’ll stick my foot under it to stop it from hitting the ground and breaking.
Imagine; I was worried the pot would break; the foot's unbreakable.
NOT!!!!!!!!
Fuck I hope a plane doesn’t fall near me, I may run under to catch it.

The doctor said that the toes are broken.
I have a smart doctor; I would never have figured that out on my own.
Not even when I heard the bones snap, I thought it was a brain fart not my toes shattering and the sharp pain the slammed so hard into my brain to knock out a chunk of hair from the hemisphere of my brain tipped me off to his professional summation of my condition.

So what happens when you got broken toes?
Nothing it seems.
You just let them hang there like two little snots on your foot until they heal.
I guess they don’t have tiny casts.

So there is nothing left for me to do this weekend but lay on my back with my leg up but one of the guys did stop by.
I told him what happened and we laughed about it.
Nothing else you can do but laugh now.

This morning the phone woke me up; it was my mother telling me there was something at my door.
I hop down the stairs to the front door and opened it; just then a piles of crutches and canes fell into the house.
My parents were on the porch laughing
Hmmmm

It seems my friends thought it was funny because they were talking about me breaking my foot while getting drunk and for a joke they went out and found every cane and crutches they could find and piled them at my door then ran off.
My parents were there when they were dropped off and my uncle was one of the smart Asses in on it.
I don’t need a damn cane or crutch let alone ten of them.
If they wanted me to feel better they could have sent something a little softer for me to lean on.



So what is the lesson that I have learned this weekend?
That if I invented steel toe sandals, I could get rich LOL
Now I got to find the KY jelly to grease the rubber ends on these crutches and canes so I could return them.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend

Have a nice day

Walker