A lesson in creative cussing

25 Sep

I’m a seamstress. Seems like a low impact job, right? WRONG, WRONGO, WRONGITY-WRONG-WRONG-WRONG! I’m constantly hurting myself and becoming ailed by hazards of the job. Two weeks ago, I was so crippled with back pain from constantly being hunched over a machine that I was able to squeeze two (TWO!) massage appointments out of my husband because “PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD if I send you to the spa will you shut the heck up about the sore back!?” Seems sweet and awesome and pampery, but really? TORTURE!!! THE PAIN AND HORROR!!!!! But alas, I’m much better now and am complaining to a much more minimal extent.

Until today. Whence I got my middle finger caught in the unforgiving death chomp of my embroidery machine. While it was humming away at full blast. On a very speedy transmission. With venom-filled needles.

It was a reckless accident that involved trying to guide my fabric through the embroidery machine while I turned away from the machine and looked at Navy and suddenly CHOMP CHOMP PIERCE BLOOD CHOMP BEEEEEEEPPPPPPP (which is the horrific screaming noise the machine makes when Error: Needle has broken.  OH REALLY, MACHINE!? My needle broke!? Cause I’m pretty sure I WAS THERE FOR THAT ONE and OH YEAH IT’S STILL IN MY FRIGGING FINGER EFFING FRICK CRAP BUTT HOLY WHUT THE!?).

Yeah. I photographed it. And photoshopped it. Because that’s what morons who sew their fingers do. We take photographic evidence and then make it look artful.

Then I texted my sisters a string of horribly connected cuss words (with photo attached) and this was the conversation that ensued:

Meant to say get your ear pierced. The needle was impeding my ability to type. 

Speaking of which, the needle was also impeding my ability to carry my baby, prevent him from knocking over the ironing board (which had the hot iron on it) and pull the dog’s hair, all which was happening WHILE I HAD A NEEDLE LODGED IN MY FINGER. So I’m walking around with a broken pinky (oh yeah, I moved some furniture by myself a week ago and SMASH, broke, sob, bruise, ouch) and a pierced finger all on the same hand. Good thing I’m right handed and a mom because moms have an acute ability to do a trillion things with one hand, whether or not the other hand happens to be practically detaching itself from your body or not.

So THAT was awesome and everything. I’m nursing my wounds by getting back on the horse and showing that embroidery machine who’s boss (also by drinking wine and self medicating).

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