Gifts!

Storm*, one of my girlfriends and part of the Broad Summit, gave me housewarming gifts at our happy hour last night. This is one of them, a hammer that is part of a three piece pink tool set.

I have a pink hammer. Jealous?

It isn't just any hammer, however, oh no. You can unscrew the metal part from the pink hammer part and find a screw driver. If you unscrew the base of that screwdriver, there is another. And again. And again. It is a hammer that is a Russian Nesting Doll of four screwdrivers, each smaller than the last. That, in itself, is noteworthy, but the truly remarkable thing is that I've been thinking about a hammer very similar to this lately. I grew up with one. Granted, the hammer part was copper or brass or some sort of goldy metal, with the silver screw driver base, but I grew up with one. It was my mother's and I always had a weird fascination with it for some reason. These things are slender, lightweight, manageable, and damned useful. I'd been missing the one from my childhood and suddenly here I am with my very own! And it is pink! Huzzah indeed.

Here is something else I got last night:

You can't tell from the picture but that is the top left quarter of my left foot. I was walking down the wooden steps outside of my apartment last night when I turned my ankle and fell. The only part that was damaged was this top portion of my foot. I'm lucky I didn't break anything and that it wasn't worse, but what the fuck? I evidently didn't throw my hands out to protect myself as my palms and elbows are fine. I just tripped and went down flat and that was that. It isn't red all over like that though. I put some weird bottled liquid from the office first aid kit on it this afternoon. It really looks like I was clawed a few times by an animal. Sore and hurts like a bitch but, as I said, it could have been a lot worse. Am I clumsy? Is it the MS? Was it the three beers I had at Broad Summit? Who knows. I tend to injure myself in absurd ways, drunk as a skunk or sober as a judge, and it really has been awhile. How do I know? Because my knees are not fucked up. I have the same tendency to skin my knees as does a 7 year old girl. But hey, if you don't end up with a cut or a bruise, you aren't really enjoying yourself, now are you?

So short work week but I still look forward to the end of it because I wasn't exactly resting on my days off. Instead I was packing, dealing with emotional paperwork, and just go go going. Oh, and I lost my office access card during the move so had to request a new one. That sounds straight forward enough but you do not work in my company with its labyrinthine IT request system. I am not being hyperbolic when I tell you that there are three methods of placing an IT request depending on what it is you need. PC, email, and phone issues go to X. Issues with internal programs require you to issue a ticket through Y. Requests for hardware, server access, new building access cards, etc, require a ticket through Z. So I got the new card and issued my Z request, eventually got it approved, and was told my card was activated. I went outside and tried the card. I then walked around the complex so that someone could let me in. Because those who work on Z requests cannot get the simplest of items done within 24 hours, apparently. Oy. You'd think I was requesting access to an executive folder on the main server so that I could spy rather than trying to get entrance to the fucking office in which I work.

But such is life and if that is my biggest complaint, I can't be doing too badly, now can I? 

*Originally, I called her She-Ra. She didn't know She-Ra and wanted to be Storm. SS was called Wonder Woman but she wanted Rogue instead, because she is an X-Men fan and I, a fan myself, could not say no. Super Girl's only qualm was that her name made her think she should have been carded when she and I put in drink orders and she was not carded but I was.