More hard luck!

Welcome, Reader. You've arrived at this blog just as another episode of "The Perils of Paul" is about to begin.

Just when I thought that my streak of bad luck was winding down, I stumbled into a fresh pile of doodoo.

I was sitting at my desk at the office on Thursday when I saw a co-worker heading my way. Figuring she had something to say to me, I reached for my hearing aids and plugged them into my ears.

The right hearing aid began to sputter, meaning that it was time to replace the battery. So I removed it from my ear and tried to open the battery carriage but instead of opening on its hinge, the carriage –a crescent-shaped piece of plastic about the size of a nail clipping– broke off.

I scoped my desktop to see if it landed there but I couldn't see it.

Maybe it fell in my lap, I thought, but I didn't see it there, either.

I dropped down to my hands and knees to hunt for the piece on the floor, gently moving the palm of one hand along the tips of the carpet fibers. No luck.

Then I stood up and took one baby step toward my desk, and that's when I heard the sound of crunching plastic.

I lifted my right foot, and there was the battery carriage –what was left of it, that is.

Now in addition to having lost the ability to speak, my hearing ability has been reduced by half.

I know it's my own fault. Just call me Paul the (Artificial) Organ Grinder. And I suppose you could say that the price I am paying for this is the deaf penalty.

Just can't shake the feeling that somewhere out there is a witch casting spells on me by removing pieces from a Mr. Potato Head. The mouth was the first to go, and now one of the ears.

I'll start looking into getting the aid repaired or replaced today.

Meanwhile, if you leave a comment on my blog, use ALL CAPS.