PJs and Two Chains

The past two weeks have been ones for the books. So many exciting things have happened, I don’t know where to begin! I think I’ll just dive into the most exciting part. Two Wednesdays ago I changed out of my pajamas. . . . waitforit. . . BEFORE NOON! I may have been back in them at 5 pm (because it’s not like I was gonna put on real pants after my post workout shower if I was just staying at home, I don’t know what sick and twisted people would), but that’s a minor detail. The rest of the week I was in pjs, all day errday. Best part about it? I’m working.


Lucky for me, my position as an assistant to a psychotherapist is currently revolving around me building her a website, webstore, etc. all from the comfort of my couch while logging my hours. Sounds like a sweet gig, huh? It is. . . . except for the fact that I think I’m slowing losing my mind. When pajamas are your work wardrobe, your coworker is your pug, and you haven’t left the house in days, the inevitable thoughts of “I’m doing nothing with my life” and “my dog is the only one who just gets me, you know?” begin to set in (although Odie isn’t that helpful with the web design, being colorblind and all). However, there are the upsides. In addition to building a pretty fucking awesome website, I’ve memorized the time table of afternoon TV and created the perfect storm of shows. I have precisely coordinated when to change the channel from the daytime chunks of Friends to Big Bang Theory, to HIMYM without missing a beat. Unless of course there’s an NCIS marathon or Disney movie on, then it alters the pattern slightly. Thank god I go into the office this week and have a meeting about my second gig as a research assistant for a sports psychologist (I hope it works out or this humble brag is going to bite me in the ass).

Moving on, this weekend Luis and Stephen came up to visit, #luluinlalaland (credit: Katherine). Friday night Spencer and Jeff joined us for some beer pong on my house. We played four games before we all ended up watching Friends for an hour. Or two. Or three. Cause we rage hard. Then last night I babysat, made some awesome cookies, hung out with some giant stuffed giraffes, and made $50 sooo yay.
 Today I met Luis, Stephen and Katherine down at the beach. I didn’t get there until around 4:00, but still sat in the shade. When I did move to the sun I put sunscreen on after about 5 min, just to cover all my bases and keep my skin looking extra casper-y. We sat around for a bit, played some corn hole and then I demanded that we go to the swings. Swings are THE BEST playground mainstay. If you think otherwise, you’re wrong. They are a heavenly pendulum, a perfect combination of effort and relaxation. That and they’re just so damn fun. I could swing for hours and be happier than a Quokka dreaming of doing the backstroke through a swimming pool of berries.  

Lil' Quokka. Smiling's their favorite. And apparently so are berries. 

But today the universe dealt me a cruel hand. At first everything was going great, my new 10 year-old friend Tom and I were trying to see who could swing the highest. Clearly, I won. Tom really needs to step up his game. Then Stephen took his place and we started seeing who could go the highest between the two of us. As everyone whose ever had a childhood knows, when you get too high the chain goes slack and your butt comes off the seat for a second or two. You feel that roller-coaster-like adrenaline rush before your butt comes back to the seat, the chain goes taut again, and you're back to blissful swinging.Well, a couple swings into our top height, disaster struck. When I was at the top of my height and the chain was slack, the hook on right side of the seat shifted, so when my butt came back down on the seat, it unhooked itself from the chain.

Do you know what a swing turns into when the seat goes from horizontal to vertical? 2 chains. Do you know what you turn into when it happens in mid air? Dead weight. 

2 Chainz. I wish.
His dreads would have cushioned the fall.

So instead of the seat gently catching and cradling my butt like I expected, there was nothing. But only for the splittest of seconds. And then a straight free fall from six plus feet. A perfect example of gravity, Newton would be proud. Fun fact: sand really isn’t that soft on impact. I managed to land directly on my tailbone and left half of my upper body. After I hit, the wind was knocked out of me but I was so shocked I was laughing at the same time. Laughing with no lung capacity is quite difficult.


 Luis and Stephen graciously asked if I was ok, before proceeding to laugh after my half hearted nod. Of course, Luis was getting his phone out while seeing if I was or wasn't permanently paralyzed in order to take some pictures. But he made up for it by laying down under the swing with me until I could get up. It was a very JD and Turk kinda of moment.

 The cherry on top was when some adults (you know real ones), who saw the whole thing, got up from their seats with fear in their eyes and started to come over because they thought I was seriously injured. Stephen waved them off while continuing to laugh. If that scenario isn’t a sign from the powers-that-be saying you’re childhood is over, I don’t know what is. Not that I’m gonna listen to it, but A for effort universe. After this ordeal we went and got dinner. We all had margaritas with dinner, but mine was the only one drank in hope of helping the pain and the shame.

Oh, and nothing goes with tequila like a sunburn does. . . . . 

Guess I didn’t cover my bases as well as I thought.