Yesterday, I learned I had a bird trapped in my downspout gutter. So I got out my extension ladder to get to the second-floor gutter to open the leaf guard to see if it would fly off. I had to extend the ladder to its full height, but the rope got stuck in the pulley. So I had to bring it down by hand and free it. As I tried to do so, the pulley gave way and the top of the ladder slammed into my wrist, leaving a nice gash. So my wife helped me clean it up and bandage it. I returned to the ladder but realized the bird had gone down the downspout to where it met the ground. Our underground pipe to the street has a y-cap off to the side that you can open to clear debris if it backs up. I took off the cap, and there it was, waiting for someone to open the fucking door. It peaked out and flew off.
The gash wouldn’t stop bleeding, so I went to urgent care. They took x-rays, but the film showed no fractures. I got some liquid bandage put on it and was sent on my way. I read the film report online, confirming lack of fracture, but it did show “Mild degenerative changes with some osteopenia,” confirming once again that I am really old.
I got carded today at Kroger. WTH! I said, “What, you think I’m looking for an Academy Award for best makeup just to buy beer?” They laughed, probably thinking, funny old guy, and me thinking, knuckleheads.
When I'm not writing for clients, I write about things that interest me. Quite of bit of satire, a genre that has become increasingly difficult to work in since reality has become such a farce.