Index and middle finger are ripped off, butterfly bandage on the fleshy part of my thumb, it’s no wonder they don’t let me use power tools. I’m a wreck. Just two weeks in to our Current project, my hands are shredded. Today it was the blade that I’m using to scrape up the vinyl tile that was laid on the cement floor. Who knew there was glue made that strong in the 1950’s? Every little piece has to be coaxed off with lots of muscle and a half inch blade. I pushed and pushed, and was doing great, until the blade slipped and punctured my hand. We’re not talking a utility knife blade, this little bastard is thick. I sat in the kitchen (or what will be the kitchen) for a little while until Rich came in. When I showed him what I’d done, he asked why I didn’t tell him sooner, fortunately a little electrical tape and I was good as new.
I used to pick up power tools as a joke, I knew as soon as I did, someone would take it away from me and I wouldn’t have to do the work. My brain just doesn’t think real logically. I tell people I’m packaging challenged, I can’t see how things go together. The same is true of using tools, moving things, etc. I will always try the hard way first. I’m the girl who can’t open her own crackers, who can’t play Tetris, who can’t see how the door goes back on its hinges. I’ve got no hand-eye coordination, my kids used to always want me to play video games with them because then they wouldn’t be the loser. It’s pretty rough sometimes.
Once, I picked up a sledge hammer and swung it at a bathroom wall I wanted taken out, two strikes was all it took before my ex came running to see what I was up to. Turns out I got to go sit in the easy chair for the next three days while he destructed my bathroom, he didn’t trust me to not hurt myself. He was probably right in that thinking.