Black Eyes Look Better When They’re Shaded

I’ve never been one to want to wear make-up. I dunno, buh, I just never did it. But last week, I wished I had a clue about putting on the stuff. Here’s why.

A week ago yesterday, due to some wacky fluke, I fell and smacked my head. I had Tansy’s leash in one hand and a container of leftovers from a restaurant in the other. I was walking, then poor Steve had a moment where it looked like his ankle was going to give out on him, so he tried to lean on me. Apparently, it was at the wrong moment, because his attempt to keep himself upright was enough to send me to the pavement. Since my hands were full, kersmacko! The head got it all.

I couldn’t even figure out how I was now in a heap with a rather sore head. But there I was, pasta spilled all over the grass and Tansy looking at me like “whaaat? I’m not supposed to be taller than you!” I got up, and good sweet holy hell I had a very swolen head, and it wasn’t due to ego either.

But I was pretty sure by Monday, I would be fine, and nobody would know. The huge bump was going down really fast, and the spot on my head that felt like an apple with a bruise was getting smaller. So I went about things thinking all was well.

But Monday morning, I arrived at work, and the first thing that was said was “Woe, Carin! What happened to you? Your eye! Aaa!” Apparently I had a sweet bruise, and a shiner too! It looked like little ol’ me had been scrappin’!

It was weird saying I got a black eye from falling, and thinking of how weird that sounded. I thought of all those commercials and episodes of dramas about women who’ve been hit saying they fell, or ran into a door, or fell off a ladder. I would say I fell, and I could just hear it. “Sure you fell…” I was hoping I didn’t actually hurt myself enough to need to get checked out, because I was sure things would get really weird really quick. Thankfully, my coworkers believed me, all the worry about what they would say was all in my head.

Luckily I was fine…just looked hideous. So while I have this yucky black eye, I wish I could a. look in a mirror so I can know if it’s getting better, and b. put on just enough make-up to hide the crazy-looking eye.

As of Friday, I was still getting comments…I really hope it looks normal again soon. And I also hope that the whole “everything comes in 3’s” thing doesn’t hold in terms of me getting injured. At Thanksgiving, we took Tansy into a fenced in area to let her play with another dog. Both dogs were running, I didn’t get a chance to hold onto anything fast enough, and both dogs ran smack into the back of my knees! I flew into the air, and landed not so nicely on my ankle. Luckily, I just gave it a good twist, nothing was broken, but ow ow ow ow ow! I got hit pretty good, though, because my phone flew out of my pocket…and landed splat in a manure pile 20 feet away. Yuck!

These last few weeks have taught me that I haven’t gotten hurt much in my life. I’m not used to how long things take to heel, and I’m always worried things are worse than they are. Steve has obviously been shmucked around a lot more than me, he could predict pretty much what everything was going to do when.

So yeah, black eyes suck. And let’s stop with the repeated falls. I kind of feel like an idiot for falling so much.

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