Needles in my arm and crackheads on my roof.

So here is what has happened since Thursday afternoon when I last wrote:

I got dry needled.

I mailed out overnight packages until I wanted to cry.

I possibly hired the neighborhood crackhead to climb on my roof and clean my gutters.  Oh wait....what I meant to say is that I hired ONE of the neighborhood crackheads to climb on my roof and clean my gutters. 

I almost had a family dinner and home repairs happening simultaneously.  Instead, I just had family over here sweating like I run a whore house.  And I've had an a/c guy here for 7 hours today because he had to reschedule from last night.

I may go to a pool party tonight.  Except I don't know how to lose 50 pounds and buy a flattering bathing suit in the next 2 hours.

The dry needling was.....interesting.  She stuck 3 needles in the front of my shoulder.  I felt the first one and it burned quite a bit.  And it made me bleed.  The second two?  I didn't even feel them go in my arm.

Then she stuck 3 needles in the back of my shoulder.  They all hurt.  It's not excruciating pain, it's more like, well a needle sticking in your arm.  But it burns a little more.  She kept them all in for about a minute and then pulled them all out, wrapped me in a heating blanket that made me want to stay overnight, and then sent me home.

I didn't feel any different really.  But then I got home and watered my plants while the a/c repair guy was at my house checking to see why my downstairs air isn't working.  Answer:  because a VERY expensive part (a $1,000 part) decided to die and make all the freon leak out.  (I actually just wrote the check for the part, labor and freon a few minutes ago and it made me want to cry and throw up all at the same time.)  Then I went inside and had to clean since I was having company last night and I went to put my hair up since it was so hot in my house.  I haven't been able to lift my arm higher than shoulder height so I bend over at the waist and try not to cry lifting my arm enough to reach my head.  After the needling, it hurt way less to do that.  I still can't lift my arm very high, but it's less painful for sure.  I talked to my therapist yesterday and said, "Let's do lots more needle poking, please!" and she said okay.

So that's the very anti-climatic story about needling:  a little painful, a little successful and a little bleedy.

I got home last night 10 minutes before my company was supposed to be at my house because traffic was trying to kill me with frustration.  9 mile commute equaled 70 minutes (oh Atlanta, how I love you).  I was walking up my driveway to grab my mail and a guy walking by on the sidewalk hollers to me, "EXCUSE ME.  CAN I ASK YOU SOMETHING?"  He had on somewhat raggedy clothes and was missing some teeth.

"Yes."

"Can I cut your grass for you or do some yard work.  I need some money real bad."

"Um, my grass is short because I JUST CUT IT four days ago.  Thanks anyway!"

"Can I do anything for you?  Can I trim the trees.  I really need to make a few bucks.  I'm going to do some work for your next door neighbors but I need a few bucks to get gas for my mower so I can cut their grass."

"No, thank you.  I have a friend with a landscaping business and she's helping me in my yard.  She needs a few bucks too."

"Well, m'am, your roof needs swept off.  There's a lot of stuff blown up there.  Can I clean your roof off and clean out your gutters?"

And it's true.  My roof does have stuff blown on it and my gutters do need cleaned.  I have no desire to climb up there and do it, especially with a somewhat bum arm, and I don't think my 60+ year old hippie landscaper friend would want to do that either.  She'd rather take me out and get me drunk on margaritas than climb on my roof and sweep.  So that's how I found myself asking this:

"How much would you charge me?"

And y'all, this is what he said and it kind of made me want to cry.  Mostly because I have "SUCKER" tattooed on my forehead:

"Whatever your heart tells you to offer me, m'am."

I explained to him that I have never had my gutters cleaned out and had no clue what to offer him but he just kept saying to offer whatever my heart told me to.

"Thirty bucks.  Does that sound good?" thinking he was going to laugh at me even though I honestly don't know what it normally costs.

"Yes m'am.  Thirty bucks sounds real good.  Can you give me a deposit and I'll come back on Sunday morning?"

"Um, no.  No deposit. Can you come tomorrow because it's supposed to rain all day Sunday."

"No, it's okay if it rains.  I'll be here Sunday.  But are you sure you can't give me a small deposit?"

I then told him that my dad once tried cleaning the gutters in the rain, fell off the ladder and broke his back.  (I should tell y'all that story sometime.  How my dad broke his back and just sat at home and didn't call anyone or try to get help and how a police officer called him about a car accident he had been in the day before and could tell something was not quite right with my dad and sent an ambulance to his house.  Then the hospital called my mom at work and said a police officer had an ambulance go to your house and get your husband and now he's  here with a broken back.  True story.  Or the time he sat at home and bled for 8 hours when he fell off the porch and split his eyebrow open and ended up getting 17 stitches but he didn't want to go because he hates the ER.  Or the time he had a heart attack last year but said he was fine and didn't want to go to the ER, went to bed, had a second heart attack the next morning and almost died, and spent a month in the hospital.  My dad.  He's a blog of his own.  An ER hating blog.)

"No, I'll be fine.  I'll see you Sunday morning.  Thirty bucks.  Thank you m'am."

Remember how he needed a deposit to get gas for his mower so he could do my next door neighbor's yard?  My next door neighbor was out a while ago MOWING HIS OWN YARD.

I don't know what to expect tomorrow, but I'm pretty sure it's going to be interesting if he shows up.

Earlier today I had a random lady asking me for change for a hundred dollar bill.  Then she stopped the ice cream man and asked him for change.  He didn't have it either.

So if any of you ever get bored, come sit on my front porch for a while and hang out with me.  You won't be bored for too long.  There may be someone begging for money, wanting to exchange money, a kidnapper, a convicted thief, or the lady walking by last weekend with blue hair and the legs of a mannequin to entertain you.  Who needs to go to a movie?  I prefer to sit on my front porch and watch life on my street.  And get all in the middle of it from time to time.