Here it is the night before my big move to Virginia. I still don't have everything loaded on the moving truck (it should be), and the right side of my face is numb.

You may be wondering, Why is the right side of your face numb?

I made arrangements for my friend to be here to help me load my refrigerator and other bigger items onto my truck. I wanted to get it done early, so I could put my car onto the dolly while it was still daylight.

My friend arrived late. This frustrated me. He also smelled like weed. This would frustrate me later.

We were having trouble getting the fridge through the door. It didn't seem like my friend was putting forth much effort. In fact, when he tipped the fridge towards me (and the hand truck), I peeped over the top of the fridge, and he wasn't even touching it!

I'm like, Dude! What the hell are you doing?! Give me some help here!

After more frustration, I finally blurted out, "Look man. I know you're high and all, but you need to get it together. You're not focused, and you're not helping."

If you've ever been around a stoner, it's very much like talking to a kindergartner. They're unable to offer any real help, and you have to keep reminding them what they're supposed to be doing. I'm sure you've seen the movie Dazed and Confused — that pretty much sums it up.

Growing even more frustrated, I climbed onto a stool to remove the screws on the top of the refrigerator doors. Then you have to tilt the refrigerator over, so you can remove the water filter tubing at the bottom — and then remove the doors.

My frustration at his lack of assistance continued to pluck my nerves. When I have a job to complete, I have little room in my patience reservoir for incompetence or excuse-making. In my mind, his lack of focus had severely crippled my progress. I reminded him several times this afternoon about his commitment — and to leave the golf course, so he could get here on time.

Trying to get the job finished before we lost daylight, I forgot about leaving the drill bit, and my fully-loaded socket set on top of the refrigerator.



He tilts the fridge back towards me and SMACK!

The entire (open) socket set slides off the top of the fridge and crashes into my face and the drill bit (as you see it now) pierces my face — about 3 centimeters below my eye. I almost lost my right eye tonight.

Do you see the dot under my eye (on the left side of your screen)?



That's where the drill bit (with a screwdriver tip attached) pierced the skin beneath my eye. At the same time, my entire socket set smashes my face. My teeth still feel numb. I've been hit in the face plenty of times, but I've never been hit in the face while being stabbed at the same time.

It's now starting to swell up pretty severely — and it's definitely gonna be a black eye by tomorrow.

I guess I just upped my street cred.


Could it get any worse?

Of course. After icing down my face (and making my friend leave), I decide I'm ready to take a hot bubble bath — in an attempt to calm my nerves. The bathwater is running and I'm buck naked about to jump in.

That's when I realize that all my towels are on the moving truck.

Super.

Luckily, I found a pillowcase that I was able to use for a towel.

Ahhhhh.

Could it get any worse?

Of course. When I go to put on my clothes, I realize all my clean draws are on the moving truck.

Perfect.

So yes, as I type this, I'm wearing the same dirty draws. But I'm looking at the bright side: After getting slammed in the face with an entire socket set and a drill bit piercing — at least I still have my eyesight.

For that ... I'm grateful.  :]

And even though I was incredibly pissed off at my friend, I still thanked him for his help. I also learned some valuable lessons: (1.) Recognize frustration when it surfaces and do your best to control it — lest you rush and hurt yourself or someone else. (2.) Never ask a stoner to help you do anything.

I still got love for ya, buddy. You've been a good friend. However, I don't wanna speak to you for a few days.  :]

Update: It's now Saturday, and since I knew I wouldn't be going out when I got to Virginia (per my friends' request), I decided to sleep in. Let's have a look at the day after photo.



This is funny: When I moved to Alabama exactly ten years ago, on the weekend of February 20th, I got into a bar fight that Friday night (before I left Virginia). Although I landed a dynamic first punch, after the bouncers jumped in, the dudes' girlfriend was able to get her hand in and scratch my forehead up pretty good.  :]

Battle wounds as I was leaving Virginia exactly ten years ago ... battle wounds as I return to Virginia exactly ten years later.

Perfect symmetry.  :]