I swear things keep happening to me on Wednesdays. And Thursdays. And Saturdays…oh. Right. Things just keep happening.

Today I left work thinking I had a ready-made post in hand. As predicted, my life got all weird again in short order when I made the (probably) unwise decision to make an appointment to give blood at the blood drive at the student center during my lunch break. I arrived for the appointment two minutes early and was told they’d had an unforeseeable and unfixable delay and I’d probably have to wait half an hour before giving blood. Fine. I’d just clocked out and had 50 minutes left to donate to this cause. Because I hadn’t had time to eat before my appointment, I figured I’d just have a little lunch post-donation. This plan was tossed out the window 45 minutes later when I was just being called back to be questioned rigorously regarding my traveling, tattoos, and sexual adventures (such as they may be). Obviously, this was going to require more than my hour-long lunch break, but, having checked in with The Boss and gotten the go-ahead, I decided to plow on through.

Please note: I’ve done this before. Many, many times. It has been awhile, however, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never donated blood on an empty stomach. This, my friends, is an awful idea. At the very least I should have had about a gallon of water beforehand to puff up my veins, because they were apparently near-impossible to locate (and I remember so vividly the ease with which my veins were usually located and punctured in past experiences). Also, I never watch this part. It usually doesn’t hurt too badly and I’m not generally tempted to look over and see what’s going on. But once she started digging and wiggling, I couldn’t help myself. I looked. Ladies and Gents, this is a huge needle. I’m known for my exaggerations, but I was literally shocked by the size of the metal tube protruding from my arm. This definitely started me down the path to faintness.

Almost immediately, I got light headed. (PS, Sista Friend, you might want to stop reading – you’ll probably fall out just reading about this) I power through as I’ve recently powered through a MUCH WORSE situation involving one (ONE!) mojito and an empty stomach. I was determined I wasn’t passing out. Jeez, a dude passed out while I was waiting and I was making fun of him so hard in my head. I wasn’t going to let that happen to me.

Anyway, they saw I looked pretty crappy (I’m sure) and made me lie down. At which point, I stopped bleeding. For reals, folks. Ginormous needle in my vein and the well was dry. More digging, by multiple phlebotomists. A few minutes did the trick, briefly. Then, dry as a bone again. More nurses, more needle wiggling. Un. Fun.

By the time they finally pulled the darned needle out of my arm, it was nearly two hours after my lunch break began. I hadn’t had lunch and I didn’t have time to pass out. I had to get back to my desk.

So, probably right on the verge of keeling over, I hauled myself, my extremely heavy purse and my uneaten lunch back to my building, and probably made a fool out of myself for the next hour or two.

I thought that would be the end of my adventures for the day. Honestly, a two-hour lunch break in which I didn’t even eat lunch was enough for one day. But my day got even more fun when I was pulling out of the parking lot and, followed by Comical Colleague (you may remember him from his first appearance, here, grimacing at my lunch choices) in his own vehicle. Apparently blood flow to my brain was still a little low because I really nailed the curb when I turned the corner. ComiColl, true to form, made fun of me through my rearview mirror. Then I drove away and didn’t think of it again.

Until I was getting close to home and my car started making some very unfortunate noises and slowed down. Realizing I had a flat tire, I pulled over (in what amounted to about three feet from the middle of a fairly busy road, by Opelika’s standards) and turned on the hazards. Surveyed the damage. Large tear in tire. Thank God I had a spare, but I’m not sure who to thank for the lack of a jack. Also, it was sprinkling. And muggy. And I was wearing wool pants.

Anyway, Hubby, as  you know, is out of town. Hubby’s friend in town didn’t pick up the phone and I really need to get some co-workers’ cell phone numbers because I was pretty sure I was going to have to obtain some superhuman strength, lift the car off the ground, unscrew the flat tire, attach the spare, and drive away without ruining my clothes or passing out from lack of food/blood.

Fortunately I was rescued by a rather disgusting looking mechanic (I tell you, the mechanics of the world love me. Mechanics and Truckers. Who knows why.) who had two jacks in his car and managed to, after half an hour, solve my problems. All I had to do was watch and say thank you.

So, now I have to skip lunch on Friday to make up for my two-hour long lunch today (so I can lunch with another co-worker tomorrow, soon to be renamed for this forum) and find time between now and Friday afternoon to get my tire repaired or replaced and then drive two hours to Birmingham to spend the holiday weekend with my Hubby whom I miss very much.

Somehow my brain held out as I spent the last three hours typing this up and stuffed my face with leftover pie and a Lean Pocket. Still feeling peakish. Fingers and lips are tingling like I’ve had a bit too much to drink.

Time for ‘The End,’ I think 🙂

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