Written by lainie at 07:46 PM on January 21, 2008 in Rants, Home.

I should get a good luck charm.

I had a wonderful dinner last night - a kind of sending off for my newly wed sister Gazel, and brother in law Tommy, along with his parents. Today, they'll be on the way to Hong Kong so Gazel can meet her new inlaws.

Then I visited a doctor in SS2 (the first clinic we found that was open at the hour), Shalini and Lee. Let's just say the doctor was a rough asshole who started it off by ripping gauze off the back of my hand - which pulled at my stitches quite sharply, causing what I thought was an unnecessary amount of pain. I nearly yelped. It didn't get any better. Towards the end of it, he pressed down on my stitches with his thumb (quite firmly, and therefore quite fucking painfully), to wipe around it.

Since he ignored my protests (again) that he was being unnecessarily rough, I started looking for a cert hanging on the wall that indicated he actually had a license to practice, while wincing and making all kinds of internal observations about being manhandled by quacks. No certs that I noticed. Pisshead, I am so unimpressed. I may not be good with injections, but I'm not very pussy about other types of pain - particularly on my hands.

Trust me, I have high pain tolerance in my hands, and it usually takes a lot before I even notice something injurious might be happening to it. Is this because I have my period and am feeling pissy? Anyone wants to change my mind and tell me the technical details that would require so much strength to change a bandage?

Came home, drank some alcohol and watched some horrible Hungarian midget porn. It was so bad at one point there was a naked Gollum-like man. Serves me right, I know.

Woke up today with a headache, and an extremely sore arm (the tetanus shot is hurting way more than the stitches right now).

Got caught in the rain coming home from lunch. Upon entering I noticed that the electricity was out, and the opening in my bedroom ceiling had been moved several inches. Yknow, that thing that looks like a square manhole in a ceiling, whatever it's called, that allows access from the roof. This noticeable displacement had not been there before I left (was taking a break from reading Spider-man comics to.......stare at my ceiling).

I considered the possibility of small animals peeking into my bedroom, but realised I'd certainly never bloody heard any critters running in the roof. And it looked like there were edges that would require opposable thumbs to lift from the ceiling. I checked - didn't seem like we'd been burgled - my laptop and camera lying in plain view. 

"How bloody unlucky can I be anyway? Can't be a break in so soon after the robbery, cmon. And my stuff's all still here".

Then feeling doubtful, rain-soaked, and not particularly lucky, I called Tate, who was at work, in case I had interrupted a break-in. Grabbed my laptop, camera and the cat and triple locked myself in his room to wait for him.

Tate came over pretty soon to check it out. Ladder, home weapons, torchlight, and him climbing up, getting all dusty. We moved my dodgy work desk and ended up spilling all the contents onto the floor - breaking some wine glasses.

Mohan and Ding came along as back up. Mohan started singing some Spider-Tate song, asking if we really expected a burglar to be sittin in the roof waiting to be found .

Tate didn't find any indication of footprints or misplaced roof shingles in our house. He was the one who'd climbed up and performed most of the grunt / investigative work. The three of them left. I'm wondering if I should duct tape my ceiling. Mohan suggested the wind may have done it (which would have to come from inside the roof because both my room window and door were shut). I've never had any of this in my homes before (bar one time when the roof literally collapsed), so I don't know what to make of it.

That being said, moving the ladder / table around seems to have lessened the hurt on my tetanus shot for a while. It's back now, but not as sore as before.

I spent fifty dollars on hair products I thought I needed, but upon reconsideration, I should have acquired my good luck charm - a bottle of mace.
I'm now charging my stungun of dubious legality. Bloody hell.