Friday, September 29, 2006
The end of this week saw me in our nation's fine capital attending a two-day job related seminar. Needing to be at designated location in DC by 8 AM two weekdays in a row is vastly different than venturing into the city for recreational purposes on a lazy weekend. I live far enough outside the city that getting there during morning rush hour is a hassle, but not so far away that it would make sense to get hotel room and stay on location. I ended up taking the Metro, always a hateful experience. It never fails that there's a crazy person on my Metro car who (1) wants to talk in my general direction, and (2) conveniently happens to have flexible travel plans, meaning that he/she is free to go WHEREVER I'M GOING. Thursday morning I was not in the mood to have any Stinky Petes following me, so I hotfooted it off the Metro and practically jogged from the station to the seminar site.
Now, the actual walking distance was maybe about a tenth of a mile (taking into consideration my usual and customary wrong turn after leaving the station) but Thursday represented my first day of wearing heeled pumps after a long summer of sandals. By the time I plopped down in a chair at the seminar room in the Hilton, my dogs were barking. A few minutes later I happened to look down and notice that the back of my ankle was a bloody mangled mess. I hobbled off to the restroom to clean up.
Fortunately I had one of Sophie's bandaids in my purse - nothing says "I am a competent professional" like a visibly applied DisneyTM Princesses bandaid! That held until noon, at which point we turned loose to go forage the city for food, i.e., more walking. By the time I returned, I was in dire need of a fresh covering for my wound.
Rummaging through my purse turned up no other bandaids, but I did find (1) some not-very-clean-looking napkins, (2) some old receipts that had turned felty from being in the bottom of my purse, and (3) an individually-wrapped thin-but-absorbent feminine hygiene product with stick-on backing. Hmm, what to do, what to do...
Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?
I...I...
I went to the hotel concierge and asked for a couple of bandaids, of course.
What were you thinking?
# posted by Amanda at 8:16 PM |
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