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Stressed Out Hands 5:16 p.m. 2005-02-22 Last night my hands were bothering me. They are sore, and I’m not quite sure why. Could it from holding on to Nick while he was twisting all 30 pounds of himself free, at the video store? He wanted to knock all the movies and games from the shelves, and he just couldn’t understand why I would let him. I announced to Andrew that we were leaving NOW, as I made my way out of the video store. The last thing I needed was the owner of the place chase me off in broken English, “You child mess up my store! You pay for damage!” Visions of my dream of the Chinese man with the foot bath chasing me for a pedicure come to mind. Anyway, last night they were bothering me, and the only way I could get them to relax is putting them between a pillow. Maybe my hands are still sore from last Sunday while I was at the dentist. My dentist told me that the last tooth she was going to work on was a deep cavity, so she was going to work on it very slowly and put medicine in the filling. I’m thinking to myself, “This is going to hurt.” Actually, it did not hurt, but I clenched my hands throughout the procedure anyway. I hate going to my dental appointments. I’ve been going to this dentist almost every weekend for the past month, and I am very happy to say that I’m done until my cleaning in June, but all that hand clenching this month may have put some wear on my poor hands. Or, it may be from work. All this typing that I do, and all those thick fat files I’ve had to pull and file away, and carry down the hall in those big plastic mail containers throughout the years may be getting to me as well. There are some really sad and pathetic cases out there; criminals walking the streets with a pile of files dating from when they were in the 6th grade. Sadly enough, I had to send 4 thick files last week on a person in her mid-20’s. Damn, when is the insanity going to end? When she overdoses and kills herself? By the way, I had to send off 8 closed files on eight dead clients. I really dislike writing with my black marker the word “deceased” on their file. At least it will be one less file I have to cart back and forth with, but still, it’s a sad thing. Hopefully their file won’t follow them when they pass on, but it probably will. Still my hands may be hurting from picking up Nicholas when he got his picture taken. He was not excited at all by the 3 foot Pooh bear he could take a picture with or the other props laying around. He was much more interested in the other things happening at the mall, and I had to chase him down at least 3 times to get him back in the studio. Luckily, after a swing in the stroller in the mall, and some potato chips and some of his brother’s sandwich, he got into a better mood and gave the photographer a smile from the plane and the red fire engine. Of course, mom had to jump up and down behind the photographer, and play peek a boo, and Andrew had to wave Dorito chips. I must have looked like a fool, but desperate situations call for desperate matters. I could care less if I looked like a crazy person; I wanted a smile for that little guy no matter what. I was NOT going back to that crazy mall again a third time! Oh well, I guess my hands hurt because of a combination of all of the things above. I must refrain from trying to carry more than 5 dishes at a time, while trying to balance a baby bottle, and should thing more carefully when I’m trying to juggle a baby bag, a purse, a blanket and a baby, while still holding my keys and closing the car door on a driveway that steeps. I’ve decided against getting a backpack because my daughter says it makes everyone’s butt too big. I refuse to bring attention to my butt. It’s not huge, but, why bring attention to it?! Maybe I should try to also refrain from writing large entries in this thing too.. Coelha@aol.com |