Accidents

Or as the CDC likes to call them: Unintentional Injuries.

Unfortunately, since my injury was not "medically attended" I can't claim to be part of the 47% of Americans injured at home- my guess is that the percentage of "unattended" injuries occurring at home is MUCH higher. Though only 5% of "attended" injuries are Open Wounds like mine....

I knocked a plate off my dish rack this morning and in trying to save it, smashed it against the tile counter with my forearm and now have a large gash. I don't do well with my own blood. Luckily, my neighbor, who has kids, was home and helped me. Sort of. I currently have a cotton ball medical-taped to The Wound to keep pressure on it- I look like either a (severely) botched suicide attempt or (equally severely botched) blood donor- we will re-evaluate when I get home from work this evening.

My biggest concern was that I would need stitches or sutures, "for now" we don't think so.

My next biggest concern is scarring- this one won't even have a good story.

So not only was I late for work at The MKTG Office due to my Unintentional Injury, but then there's Some Event going on at The Honda Center and I got in the wrong lane: Parking not Thru Traffic. I had to wait in the line for Parking only to get an Exit Pass, turn around, and come into The Office the other way. WHAT A DAY! (All before 9:30AM)

It's supposed to be: TGIF, it's more like WTFIF (Sorry, Mom. Had to use The F.)

I'll keep you posted.

Beano

Ain't gonna fix this gas problem.

7:51AM Labor Day

A knock sounds on the side door. I am sleeping and nearly ignore it figuring it's Debbie and she can just go away. But I peak out my window in case its UPS and maybe someone has sent me a surprise.

It's a surprise all right, in the form of Miguel, the SoCal Gas Co worker who is informing a sleep-crusty me that he will be shutting off my gas. It seems he was next door turning "ON" service for The New Neighbors when he smelled gas. His duty is to inspect the matter and in doing so found there to be a leak at my Apt.

Of course.

I immediately call The Landlord, if I have to be awake before 8AM on a Holiday to deal with this than so does he. The phone call went a little something like this:

B (The Landlord's wife?) answers the phone.

Me: Is Don (The Landlord) there?

B: Who's calling?

Me: k8, the tenant in Apt A- The Gas Company is here and turning off my gas because they have found a gas leak.

Miguel is telling me what to tell B. B is repeating it. I can hear The Landlord in the background. B tries to tell me The Landlord will call me back. But I put Miguel on the phone. Miguel tells her the whole story. Like me she gets sick of being the go-between and puts The Landlord on the phone. I thought Miguel was going to explode. He literally said, "How many times am I going to have to explain this? I just told the lady the whole story. Ask her." (Go Miguel.) They conclude their conversation and get off the phone. Miguel tells me The Landlord said he would try and send someone out to fix it today.

So some time passes and it dawns on me: I have no hot water. I can get by without the stove but no hot water handicaps me. And while it's not a big deal today, I DO NOT have time in my day tomorrow to deal with this nor to be without hot water. So I call The Landlord back and ask for an update and timeline on getting this resolved. He tells me he's working on it but it's a Holiday.

Yes, Sir, I know. I had plans for today too that did not include being awakened before 8AM or sitting in my Apt all day waiting for this to be fixed. And yet, here we are. I told him I had things to do, so please have whoever's coming by call me if I need to be at The Apt. Then I took my coffee (and my phone) and walked down to the beach. I was nearly home again when the phone rang: Dave The Maintenance Man.

Dave and George The Plumber were at my place. Good thing I left notes on both of my doors to "Call me if you are here to fix the gas leak and I am not here." They were/are here to fix the problem. I'm not overly confident in their abilities. Dave keeps telling George (who is supposed to be) The Plumber how he should fix it.

Dave keeps telling me to "call my friends and get a motel". Thanks, I'd rather not. Also: If I have friends, wouldn't I just crash with one of them rather than "get a motel"? Either way, I can't decide if I want to stay here or take my valuables and get as far away from here as possible. (Did I mention Dave is SMOKING!!!!)

What I WANTED to do today was get up and under the morning cover of The Marine Layer (aka The Gloom) ride my bike to Scout's, take him for a walk, and ride back. Instead, the above happened. And now the sun has come out and I'm sitting inside my Apt. Dave and George have left. I don't know where they went. Or when they're coming back. (But their tools are still scattered about outside. So that's somewhat reassuring. Maybe.)

But hey, I did learn something new: not only does gas smell awful but its PINK! When they removed the pavers near the leak site all of the "dirt" underneath was fuchsia.

I'll keep you posted.

k8