Ow.

So I was spending the afternoon painting the front of the house, trying to get the last bit in before the weather turns to cold for it (below 50°), and I’ve been using my children’s old play set as a scaffolding. Probably not the brightest idea I’ve ever had, but certainly not the dumbest.

I know this for a fact.

The dumbest idea, of late, is stepping out on the side beam of the “scaffolding” to reach that last little bit of siding – a space about two feet long by one foot tall. The beam was held together by a pair of drywall screws through the thinnest part of the wood, not the big old lag bolts that tied the rest of this structure together.

Did you catch the past tense there? Oh yeah. Those screws aren’t doing a bit of good now. Mercifully, the pine bush broke most of my fall, so I didn’t completely bash my skull in on one of the concrete drainpipe receptacles we’ve got at every the corner of the house. No, not completely. Just a little bit. Torqued my shoulder pretty good, too. And tore some skin off my, ankle, and back.

What fun.

So here I am, cleaned up and polysporined half to death, sick and tired of the ice packs on the back of my noggin, and assuring the family that I don’t need to go to the hospital, ’cause there just ain’t no cure for stupid. At any rate, I hope to get some writing done. But if it stops making sense, it might be a signal that I should go to urgent care. Not my idea of a good way to spend the evening.

At any rate, that’s my day so far.