I smashed my fingers...

Literally. Of all the times to smash my fingers, especially when I will probably have to take more typing tests...good lord.

I guess I can't complain too much about it, because I smashed my fingers cleaning my apartment. But hey, guess what guys? IT'S DONE! If I have to put up with some smashed up mamma-jamma's for a few days while I sit in my new house not worrying about my god awful apartment, so be it.

Well, Gram's came up for the weekend so that Greg and I could move our crap this weekend. Me and the mother patriarch usually butt heads a lot of time, but when you need to use your grandma for free babysitting and food while you're cleaning your apartment, then that's what you gotta do. Anyways, it was a good visit, of course, Greg and I weren't really around much. I think the most memorable part of the whole weekend was me telling her to "Shit or get off the pot" about her wanting to move up into town....again. She took it well honestly, and said she appreciated me always being blunt with her.

So, Greg and I rented a U-haul for 2 days this weekend, and moved all our crap out of our apartment, and plus about a BILLION bags of trash from all the stuff we got rid of. We realized now that we never want to own any more meaningless crap to haul around with us, ever again! I saved Battlecat though, I told Greg he wasn't allowed to throw Cringer away. Anyways, we had to hire movers for Greg's big ass HDTV, so we basically did all the moving ourselves until we both said "fuck it" and left boxes and some leftover furniture for the movers to finish up with. Greg had to go back to work on Monday, and left me with the fun part of scrub and sweat with the apartment. But hey, that's cool, he's making the moolah right now. Anyways, well I took me and the kid's over to the apartment at around 11:00, and I was folding up our black lab's x-large heavy dog crate when SNAP! there go my fingers caught in the dog crate - both hands. I seriously don't know what I would have done if my daughter hadn't been there to lift the crate so my fingers could get free. I'm guessing either pinched off, or dead from no circulation, because with both of my hands caught in a huge crate that I couldn't lift or move, I would have been toast. I think I scared my kids half to death because I started crying from the pain, and once my hands were free, I couldn't stop crying. Poor Candice started crying and hugging me. Katie ran and brought me a towel with ice. So this all happened at about 11:30, which meant, I had to continue cleaning and scrubbing with fingers that have no feeling in them because they are smooshed. In fact, I still have no feeling in my left pointer finger. I hope that comes back.

I did work despite me being a retarded clutzoid, and it finally paid off. I picked up Greg at 5:00, borrowed my Aunt's truck for a few hours to haul some more trash and miscellaneous items, and by 11:30PM, we are finally done and never have to step foot in that god awful place ever again. WEWT.

So, if you've been wondering where we have been lately, our backs our sore, Greg can hardly walk, my fingers are smooshy and deformed, and I'm drinking a beer typing out this text finding it odd that I can't feel some of my fingers hit the keys.

Take heart however, because we're back and we now can start relaxing.