I’m talking about the day-to-day, Darwinian prose of my life. (If you steal that, I will hunt you down and hurt you with methods you can’t imagine. Seriously…read my fiction. I’m sick.)
My family knows what I’m talking about. They generally rush to remove sharp objects from my hands when possible, and try to limit my participation in home improvement projects. I argue that despite several cuts and scrapes and a nearly severed thumb (only once!) I have managed to survive four decades (egads! really!?!?) without serious injury.
My latest incident came from a full-hand grab to unplug my laptop, phone and bluetooth from the surge strip in our temporary accommodations. The plug was a tight fit in the socket, and when I went to pull it out, it was stuck pretty hard.
So in my haste, I wiggled the plug out enough so that I could wrap my fingers around it to pull.
I got a shock that ran straight through to my ticker. My arm shook, my lower lip trembled. My right arm went numb for a little while. I waited it out and after awhile it got tingly, then seemed to be normal again, so I figured no serious harm done.220 volts is the standard here in South Africa, and it’s a little rougher on the body than 110, folks. Strangely, I haven’t had my usual heart palpitations since. I think that jolt knocked out my existing arrhythmia, at least temporarily.
What made this extra careless is that both the surge strip and the wall outlet have a shutoff switch.
In any case, it was a little scary and thankfully I learned my lesson without any serious damage.
Okay, okay. I learned it at least until the next time I’m in a hurry. I’m kind of like Homer Simpson, and you just have to be around me enough to watch and listen for the D’oh!
All right, short and sweet post today, and back to the manuscript before my beautiful (but tenacious!) editor decides I’m piddling around on the blog too much. 😉