I managed to horizontally split my lower lip this morning by bending down in a dark room to pick up my laptop’s power cord and bashing my face against the edge of the backrest of my wooden desk chair.
Once my brain came back online, more or less, I was in considerable pain. There was blood and puff and loosened teeth, and a half-awake husband—on whose behalf I hadn’t turned on the lights—asking me if I was okay.
Because I couldn’t find a picture of a chair holding a pencil, that’s why.
Nope.
So instead of a writing a scintillating post, I’m holding a bag of ice cubes to my lower lip and telling you all about it with one hand, while trying to decide if I really want to risk coffee, since I’ve used up all the ice.*
I’ve always wanted fuller lips, but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. I’d imagined more admiring glances and less jaw pain.
At least I’ll be forced to think before I speak, which is never a bad idea.
I’ll bet ten dollars against anything you like that my least favorite co-worker will ask me if I had collagen injections, and then imply that I should press charges against my “desk chair” for domestic abuse.**
That last one sounds good about now, but once they carted it away, as its legal guardian I’d probably be forced to spring for the lawyer, and worse, type standing up until its arraignment. And I’m already suffering neck pains from whiplash—or sudden stoplash?
Or a very mild concussion.
Through my face.
I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to explaining all this multiple times throughout the day via my amateur ventriloquist skills, which up until now I’ve only used to issue dire threats to my children when they act up in public places. So at least I’ve had a lot of practice.
My friend Cha-cha suggested that I take the opportunity to make up a cool backstory:
“Like you were saving an endangered owl from a feral grey wolf when a rogue poacher, trying to bag the wolf, grazed your lip with a wild arrow.”
I like this one, because it makes me sound bravely stupid instead of the regular kind.
Anyone else want to try?
I’d do it myself, but I have to search out a bail bondsman who’ll take a chance on juvenile, feral furniture.
And maybe find some more Tylenol.
Ow.
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*Update: drank it through a straw, which is a strange experience, but beats trying to drink a diet Pepsi through the threaded neck of a bottle. Ow.
**Update: Called it. Send your sawbuck to your local public library or to the Peace Corps Nigeria Alumni Foundation, which offers scholarships for Nigerian girls (PCNAF c/o P.O. Box 65530, Washington, D.C. 20035)—help fight terrorism with education.
Earful of Cider 