Monday went something like this:
I set the alarm for 6:30 so I could take out about 20 more bags of garbage, as well as a whole lot of non-bagged garbage (like the computer chair with the broken seat, leaving three intact unused computer chairs) out. That's a trip up and down the basement stairs with each load of garbage.
I shuffled around more stuff down there, and assembled another set of shelves. Since a carton of shelves is too heavy for me to carry, I brought in down in sections, so that's about a half dozen trips up and down the basement stairs.
I swept the basement floor, I took out an old set of utility shelves (rusted, warped) and took them out to the curb, along with the carton from the new shelves.
Surprise! Trash collection does not pick up metal, so the shelves are still there, but, miracle of miracle, they took everything else. It looked like kids were building a fort along the street in front of our house with black garbage bags.
I went to Linens 'n' Things and bought a mess of space bags. While I was sucking the air out of old bridesmaid's and prom gowns, baby blankets, and beaded promwear (mine), I said a cheerful ta-ta to R, who took off with three friends for a little ride to Arizona, stopping tonight in Ohio. (That's not unrealistic, right? Leaving New Jersey at 1:30 and spending the night in Ohio, hmmmmm?)
So I was almost done. One more trip down the basement stairs with armloads of space-bagged-wear, and it's off to the recycling center with the big cardboard box and the metal shelving laying out there on the lawn.
Did you know that when you fall, everything goes into slow motion, just like a movie? You can hear your own thoughts saying
"Oh, ankles aren't supposed to bend that way."
"Hmm, hurts."
"Oh, that's my knee hitting the concrete floor. Hope I don't rip these jeans; I like these jeans."
"There go the space-bags all over the floor."
"Ah, and now the elbow. Done, I think, for now."
I was stunned, and lay there for a minute, wondering what the hell just happened. (Like yesterday in the basement, when something made of wood fell down and hit me on the head. It took me a minute to remember that I wear glasses, and where were they?)
Anyway, at least I was on the lowest step when I fell, so no real damage. My ankle is sore and I have an ace bandage on it, but nothing broken or even sprained, no swelling even. Didn't even tear the jeans, but I do have a nasty scrape on that knee.
Turns out that cleaning the basement is hazardous duty. Who knew?
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I'm watching SNL
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