Because nothing I do can be without some sort of flare, the drive home from Cincy was not without some weird drama.
Before all that fun, I would like to say I slept like a baby, but that’s a lie. I didn’t. We were supposed to meet for brunch at 10:30 and I think that threw off my sleeping fun. I woke up at 6:30 because I forgot to close my blackout shades. Boo hiss. Even though the bachelorette fun stopped at midnight, I was up until 2am. I faceplanted for another 2 hours but it was restless sleep.
I woke up and took a shower in the most wonderful shower of ever. I didn’t have the huge bathtub but I had a massive shower with all the jets. I wanted to stay in there the entire day.
I took an Uber downtown to MOTR Pub for brunch with the ladies. I was the first one there so I sat at the bar and had a wonderful Bombshell Blonde Ale. The SIL text me and said they were literally stuck in their elevator. Good times. It was fine; I can hang by myself.
Since I graduated from UC and lived in Cincinnati for seven years, I consider myself a loving Cincy girl. There was a Reds game at 1pm and there was a sudden mass influx of Reds fans into the pub. There was a group of guys that I could tell had a looooong night before and they were ordering food at the bar but jamming their elbows into my space. If it was a crowded bar, I would understand. There were literally 5 empty chairs next to me. The bartender kindly stepped in and told them to move over and asked if I was okay.
I love my Reds, but I hate dipshits.
The ladies finally arrived and I found out after using the bathroom in the basement that there was an arcade downstairs. I took a few minutes but I played some Galaga.
After brunch, I took an Uber back and got my car and headed back home to the great state of Indiana. One of the funny things about getting on 74 is watching the Indiana licence plates high-tail it out of Ohio. I’m not kidding; people drive close to 100 in the left lane.
I was driving in the left lane when I noticed a semi with its left blinker on. The SUV in front of me sped up so the truck couldn’t pass. I slowed down and flashed my lights and nothing – the truck didn’t move. I flashed a couple more times before I realized they just left their blinker on. I went to hit the gas when in front of me was this huge plume of white smoke. I immediately slowed down and hit my four-ways. The car behind me almost rear-ended me but luckily, they slowed down.
The SUV that wouldn’t let the truck get over was pulled over onto the shoulder on the left, there were three cars on the right shoulder, and two other cars further up. I have no idea what the hell happened. The only thing I can think of was that a car on the right wasn’t paying attention and hit the gravel on the shoulder that caused the “smoke.”
I didn’t see anything I could do, so I continued my trek home.
Once I walked in the door, I passed out for a good three hours. I woke up around 6 and then went back to bed at 9. I laid in bed and read my book until after midnight. I was so exhausted, but not tired enough to sleep.
I woke up this morning and felt like a tire fire. No idea what the hell the problem is. I sat for a while and had my coffee and then went out to the fort so the husband could work. Fast forward to around 4pm, I decided to mow the lawn. The husband had left for the gym, and the yard reeeeally needed mowed. The backyard is nothing. Since we only have once section of the back with grass until the yard guy seed the back part, it literally takes 10 minutes. After I finished the front, I went to the garage and took off my shoes.
Big mistake.
Our driveway is a mix of blacktop and concrete. I guess at some point during the ’80s, this section was blacktopped. I wasn’t thinking after I took off my shoes that the bright-ass sun would be baking the blacktop. I burned the living fuck out of my foot.
At first I had an ice pack but it melted. I graduated to the chopped spinach Kroger pack. Sweet Jesus it hurts. Even though I’m a hillbilly and don’t like shoes, doesn’t mean I don’t take care of my feet. My hillbilly feet are baby soft and that was the problem with this fun exercise. I didn’t have any dead skin to shield me from the burning blacktop.
I don’t know what the technical term is but the foot meat beneath my toes is scorched. It hasn’t bubbled yet, but holy shit it hurts. I’m an idiot.
The rest of this evening is going to be spent with random vegetable bags on my foot.
Possibly sleep. I don’t know – the foot is a throbbing nightmare.