Tuesday I decided to work from home. I did this because a) I can b) I had no clients this week c) This week was solely a catch up so that I could have a clean state before starting the client from hell next week d) I had worked about 14 days in a row, most of those days were 12-14 hour days and I needed some time away, even if I was still working e) The client from hell starts next week and I'm not even kidding you, every. single. person. at work has some sort of disease (aka head cold) that makes them sound like they are 2.5 seconds away from dying. If you remember March of 2008 and the posts I made last year, you will recall that it was the worst month EVER. Part of this can be attributed to the client from hell coupled with having some sort of illness (cold, flu, whatever... it sucked). So this year I was determined to not be sick for this client. Why? Because I am determined to make this client from hell 420% better this year. If I am not sick, this will be much easier.
So I worked from home.
I was pumped because I got to my hole-y, comfy jeans all day, I had my hair in a pony tail, no make up, was doping up on Vitamin C as a preventative measure, was on track to get everything done by the following Monday before going out to the aforementioned client, and I had my favorite mug filled with nice hot tea. It was perfect.
So I sit on the couch, have my mug in my hands and am trying to log in to my computer. Next thing I know, my tea spills. On my INNER THIGHS. Ok, I don't know if it's just me, but is that not one of the most sensitive parts of the body? And then to dump scalding hot tea on that part of the body? I honestly have not ever felt pain like that. Brazilian waxes are close, but I have to say this was worse. And by the way, I have also heard that Brazilian waxes are worse than labor. I find that hard to believe (and someday I will testify as to whether or not that is true). If it is true, then since this was worse then a Brazilian wax, it was likely the worst pain I will ever feel.
I couldn't even scream it hurt so bad. My eyes just filled with tears. And I even had jeans protecting me!
Luckily, I live with a paramedic. Who has treated many people for burns, including a two year old that pulled off a pot of boiling water off the stove on top of her ok (ok, this was not THAT bad). So he is prepared. He looked at it and got me some burn cream and bandaged it up for me.
Three hours later, we looked at it together and he said, "I should have taken you more seriously... that's actually a really good 2nd degree burn." NO SHIT.
So now I will probably have two lovely scars... a huge one on my left inner thigh and a smaller one on my right inner thigh. And once again, my theory of accounting being a dangerous profession holds true, I guess especially if you love hot tea!
My worst war wound above... there is a dime size spot on my right inner thigh. The one above actually looks like an elephant from one angle or a squid from another. Maybe it can be my "faux" tattoo since I am sure I will have a nice white scar once the red/blue puffy nastiness goes away. This picture above actually doesn't do it justice.
The burn cream and sterile pads that come courtesy of having a paramedic husband. Once again he saved me.
And after I'm all bandaged. Please disregard my white pasty, chicken legs.
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