Wednesday, March 22, 2006


I forgot to mention that I nearly died on Monday.

Okay, okay, I'm being overly dramatic.

But I did go through a frightening experience.

What happened was this: we have this small little storage room where I keep Tommy's old clothes and a bunch of stuff that I can't part with.

(Hello, my name is Amber and I'm a packrat.)

We also keep our suitcases in there. And Tom needed one for his trip. So I said I'd be brave and get it for him. It made more sense seeing as I'm smaller and can squeeze through all the boxes and plastic containers we have in there.

The problem was, the suitcase was way in the back and covered by two huge plastic containers plus a few boxes. It was not fun to get back there at all. I had to step on various boxes and when I finally made it back there I was cramped and could barely move. Then the suitcase decided to be a pain and refused to budge from the spot. I'd pull and pull (and mind you, I didn't have much pulling room either) and the suitcase wouldn't move. I started to get upset. I yanked and pulled and tugged and finally it came loose...

Only a bunch of boxes and bins fell right on me! And then what happened was a domino effect: a bunch of other boxes fell to the point where they shut the door.

I was trapped.

My exit was blocked by boxes and I couldn't move. Tom and Tommy were downstairs and they obviously didn't hear anything because I didn't hear anyone call,

"You okay?"

I was a little afraid because I honestly could not move. I managed to get the boxes and bins off of me but I was seriously stuck. I started to get afraid thinking,

"Oh my gosh am I going to die in here? In the midst of my junk?"

Then I thought,

"What if no one finds me??"

Which is silly because Tom would eventually look for me. I just didn't know when. And I am not a fan of being in confined spaces so panic set in.

I started to scream.

This was followed by,

"What is going on?"


My hero!

He tried to open the door but he couldn't because the boxes were blocking me in.

"What's going ON??" he repeated. (What did he think I was with my lover making out in the STORAGE room and purposely had blocked the door?)

"I'm stuck! I can't move. The boxes...the bins..they're everywhere!" I said in a dramatic tone.

Tom tried the door again.


"HELP ME!" I shouted.

"I'M TRYING!" Tom replied.

I could tell he was putting his full weight on the door. The boxes moved a little bit, but not much because other boxes were blocking those boxes ability to move.

"Okay're going to need to move the boxes..I can't get in," Tom said.

He did manage to stick his arm through the door and I shouted,

"Your arm! I see it!!"

Then I heard Tommy go,

"Mommy stuck? Uh oh."

Then he started to sing a song about it??

"Mommy stuck, Mommy stuck!!"

(Now is not an appropriate time for a musical, son.)

I managed to move a little bit. I don't know how I did it but I did. I managed to shove boxes behind me. Then I made it closer to the door and was able to pick up those boxes and push those out of the way.

"Are you okay in there?" Tom asked.

"No. I hate boxes," I snapped. Then I managed to open the door a little bit..and a little bit more...until I squeezed myself out of the room.

"I made it! Oh thank goodness!" I shouted. I nearly kissed the floor. Instead I brushed myself off like it was nothing. I thought Tom would cover me with kisses, glad that I made it out okay but instead he went,

"Where's the suitcase??"


I made HIM go and get it. No way I was setting foot back in the pit of junk 'n clothes.

I really should get rid of some stuff. But I can't. I have a problem. I try to get rid of some of Tommy's old clothes but I think, "But this outfit is so cute..." I try to get rid of some of my junk but I think, "I'm going to need this old book for something. I know I will!"

I'll try to get rid of some stuff before we move. Try being the key word..

In other news, today is my girly appointment. I'm leaving at 1:30. I'm going to shower at 1. To make sure I'm know..down there. I'll rub on some of my sweet smelling body lotion so when the doctor is pressing all over me he doesn't think,

"Ugh has this chick ever heard of something called deodorant?"

Not that I stink right now. It's just...I want to smell better.

And I realized I haven't shaved in about a week. I didn't even think about shaving until this morning. I was getting dressed and I thought,

"Holy cow am I hairy!"

Again, the doctor probably won't even notice, I mean he probably sees dozens of women per day. I doubt he has a chart where he has:

Patient A: unshaved, stinky

Patient B: Shaved, smells like a peach

At least I would hope not.

Plus I haven't there for awhile. It's kind of a mess. And I want the doctor to be able to find his, er, way so I need to do something about that too.

(Yes I have a male doctor. There is a shortage of females on this base.)

I'm also wearing my cute undies. Not that the doctor will even see them. Because I always make sure they're hidden underneath my clothes. It's just something I've always done. But in case they somehow peek through my jeans at least the doctor can think,

"Ahh lovely. Red with white polka dot undies. Cute." (Again, he probably wouldn't even notice but my imagination tends to go overboard. And I can't help but think doctors DO talk because hello, I've seen ER and they do gossip. [Granted that is television])

I hate these appointments.

1 comment:

  1. Oh dear. You would be wildly shocked at what goes on with and within the medical community. Its disgusting!


Thanks for the comment!

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