The last day at work for both jobs. Final grades are due to the administrative folks tomorrow and I have only one professor left to get grades finalized. Other than that, we’ve had no work this week. It’s also our last night at the post office, thankfully. It’s been fun, but I’m pooped and am ready for that to be over, too.
I got my hand caught between a conveyor belt and a roller last night. Ouch! It scraped the skin pretty good (even though I was wearing a glove) and the back of my hand was pretty bruised and swollen almost immediately. While the “emergency responder” was dicking around trying to find an ice pack, I just went outside and picked up a handful of snow, got some paper towels from the ladies room and made my own ice pack.
For the most part, my hand is okay. It looks worse than it feels. It’s discolored (but not nearly as bad as it would have been had I not iced it) and there are a couple of small abrasions but it doesn’t hurt at all. The entire back of my hand is discolored and the knuckles are slightly swollen but it looks 100% better than it did last night. I had to take my ring off before my finger swelled any more, as I was afraid it would cut off circulation to the finger and it would have to be cut off. I just recently had a platinum band put on the ring to replace the original band, so I wasn’t too keen on cutting it off. I’m icing it this morning again, to keep the swelling and bruising to a minimum.
My oldest daughter called to tell me that her soon-to-be-ex-husband is giving her grief over Christmas with the kids. She is in retail (manages a store) and has to work Christmas Eve day and is back to work the day after Christmas. We’re (supposed to be) working on Monday here at the college, and will be in PA for the holiday celebration with Lisa’s family. He, on the other hand, is off starting tomorrow through the New Year and his mother is retired. They can have their celebration any time but he’s insisting that he have the kids on Christmas Day and only that day. He’s being a petulant, childish dick instead of the adult I always gave him credit for being. However, since there’s no formal custoday or visitation agreement in place, I’m putting my money on my daughter having the final say, whether he likes it or not.
My younger daughter tells me that there’s a certain little 4-year-old out in Colorado who asks frequently “When are we going to go see Grandma Pat again?” It thrills me to death that I had that kind of impression on that little man and that he had that much fun. I know *I* did!
And that will wrap it up for now. I’m off tomorrow, we’re heading to PA on Saturday, back on Sunday. May or may not be at work on Monday and then it’s blissful rest, relaxation and major vegetation.
I’ll be ready for the salad bar by the first.