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Monday, August 23, 2010

Shot the A/C

Well, if you know me at all, you know I have terrible eye sight. Absolutely awful.  On top of this, my right eye has some kind of allergy that is prohibiting me from wearing contacts or seeing well at all, so I've been stuck wearing my glasses, which doesn't exactly thrill me. 

A couple of nights ago, I decided I was going to shoot my bow using Tate's handy-dandy indoor shooting range.  Tate had spent several days cutting arrows down for my bow and fletching them with purple veins, and I was excited to try them out.  Tate was still working on something in the living room, so he didn't hover over me while I was preparing to shoot.  I thought that I would be able to see just as well with my glasses on as with my contacts, but I was so wrong.  When I tried to focus on the pin and the target, I was having a very hard time making sense of what was what  through all the blurriness.  I focused on what I thought was the middle of the target and let the arrow fly.  Instead of hearing the normal dull thud of the arrow hitting the target, I heard a much louder, sharper ping.  I slowly lowered the bow and looked to the target for my arrow, still hoping, maybe, it was there. 

When I realized that my arrow was not at all on the target -- anywhere -- I let out an exasperated, "Oh, no."  At this point, Tate still didn't know what was going on, so I quietly laid my bow and remaining arrows on the washing machine and tip-toed into the mother-in-law room where the target was located.  I looked around the room for the black-and-white striped arrow and found the purple veins sticking out of the window unit.  Now, before you scoff too much, the target was white and overlapping the window unit, and, interestingly enough, the window unit is not in the window at all, it's mounted in the lower bottom of the wall.  So, for someone who can't see at all, it's easy to get confused.  Luckily, the sawed-off arrow went through the very bottom of the a/c and didn't hurt it. 
Now, I had to tell Tate.  I jerked the arrow out of the a/c frame and shook my head as I saw the split wood.  The tip had been shoved far into the arrow.  I very slowly started to trudge back to the living room.  With my head hanging low and my eyes barely lifting up, I handed Tate the arrow and explained what happened.  Contrary to my prior judgement, he didn't get mad or yell or chastise.  He simply asked, "Are you going to put this on Facebook?"  Of course I didn't put it on Facebook!  Everyone reads Facebook!  I'm sharing it with you, though, because not many read my blog and you get a deeper look into my life, anyway. 

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