When You Slip And Fall On Your Driveway With No One To Help You Up...
It's Moody Wednesday...
It's officially the new year. Everything seems to be going well for you so far — you have a well-paid job, a partner for life, and decent health as long as there are no more runs to the hospital because of kidney stones. Your company has recently decided to reward all of its employees a generous paid day leave because New Year's Day landed on a Sunday. It's just as well, you know you need to do something about your living room and soon. It's been a chaotic mess after the family came and left the previous day. If only your partner had not invited their cousin Itt over, maybe the house could have gone another week without vacuuming. And the kitchen sink. It's a sight itself to behold with a mountain — literally a mountain — of dishes piled up waiting to get washed and put away. Who knew Uncle Bill would need 4 different cups for 4 different kinds of beverages. At the same time, Luke, the 8-year-old problem child, decided to go cuckoo on the dishwasher's buttons like he would on his own gameboy, which he only stopped "playing" when they stopped responding. Well, you've put down "dishwasher" on your shopping list and left it at that. It's a blizzard outside. you look over at your partner sleeping sound next to you in bed and let out a deep sigh. You've already fought over the messy house and the broken dishwasher last night... Normally you wouldn't even think about stepping out under this poor weather, but suddenly shoveling your driveway sounds like a good idea. So you get up, get dressed, and get out. You know it makes no sense to shovel when it's still snowing — and it's snowing heavier as you go — but you keep going. Gotta shovel all that bad luck away, you think to yourself. So you shovel till your face gets red, till your fingers go numb (should have worn gloves), and till your back starts to sweat profusely. Your driveway actually looks pretty darn good now. You decide to crack open a bottle of Ice Mountain purified water to repay yourself. You have a couple sippies and then pour the rest of it over your head like a soccer player often does after a big game. Right away, however, you realize you've made a mistake. Your face begins to freeze up and your lips tremble nonstop. That darn water, you think to yourself, not again. Just as you are making a mental note of your new year's resolution — no more pouring water down your face when it's 20 degrees Fahrenheit outside — you slip and fall. The water has turned your driveway partially icy. That darn water, not EVER again x2, you write another mental note. You try to get up but your back screams "heck no", as if this isn't punishment enough already. As you lay there stiff with snow falling constantly from the sky and landing on top of you, you think to yourself, I guess I will just take a rest here and wait for the wolves to come eat me. You go through your mind thinking if only you didn't fight with your sweetie, you wouldn't have been out here all by your lonesome. Just now, you remember reading something on Moody Melon. The worst kind of death is to die with regrets. You want to go along with their suggestion and tell your sweetie, "Hey love — I am sorry. I don't ever want to fight with you again even if all of your relatives stink. All I want is to spend time with you." If only your back would accept your "pretty pleasessss". Then suddenly, an angel shows up. All-concerned, they grab onto you and yell, "Oh my god! Are you okay? Can you hear me!?" Apparently the snow has covered most of your face at this point. They brush that away with their delicate hands. "He... hehe..." you reply. "What? You think it's funny? The wolves could have come and eaten you anytime." Even though you are in a suburb where there won't be wildlife within miles of you, you smile and let them continue. "Can you move at all? Come on! Say something. You are getting me worried." "I... I..." "Yes? Yes? What do you want to say?" "I... I love you..."— they smile — "... and I... I... I can't feel my tongue... or the restss...sss... my... body..." "Okay, okay... I'm dragging you inside so hold on tightly to me. You'll will be fine now..." Even though you can barely hear them and that you feel like you are on the verge of death, seeing your partner smile again make it all better — thanks to Moody Melon. And even though you almost lost your hands to frostbite and got buried alive by snow, receiving a full day of TLC in return is, after all, worth it.
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Julie Y. Barris
Founder | Chief Editor | Advice Guru of Moody Melon Magazine
I am an author, artist, entrepreneur, and a graphic designer with a unique vision to contribute to the world one idea at a time. Besides creating and inventing things, I’m also fascinated by the human mind. I enjoy helping others help themselves by giving them advice on family and relationship matters.
