stuck

I got my hand stuck today. Not like, "oh look at me, I got my hand stuck!" drama queen-esque... but really stuck.

I got into my car to run some things down to the women's shelter thrift store when I noticed that between my seat and the center console, a pack of gum, some lipgloss and a quarter had fallen down into the crack. Now if this had been Pedro I would have left it there until... whenever. But in the interest of keeping Jake [Elwood was too difficult to mutter encouragingly to when driving on the freeway] clean and new, I jammed my hand down in there and it stopped just at the point where my fingers grazed the lipgloss.

When I tried to pull my hand back up, my knuckles got caught under the edge of a piece of plastic. Hm... at this point my mom called and fortunately my phone was sitting in the cup holder. With my free hand I answered and a few minutes into the conversation, sitting there with one hand stuck, I mentioned that I was... stuck. She kinda paused and asked if Dad was at home and I said yes, he was, but I'd be able to free myself. I imagined him armed with some strange grease that would inevitably make a large mess.

We hung up and I began the painful task of freeing myself. I tried a bunch of different angles and contemplated just biting the bullet and pulling up, but couldn't muster the nerve. Then my dumb ass realized that I could just slide my hand towards the back of the car where there was no center console OR driver's seat to obstruct my freedom. I ended up with a nice chunk of skin scraped off my knuckle.

So yeah. That's my story.