Its over between us. Yes, just yesterday I was considering another month of your wonderful nauseating, bloating, mind scrambling effects, but last night’s vivid dream was the end of our relationship.
Granted, I didn’t really mind the whole getting carjacked and losing my precious RAV to hoodlums, nor was I really disturbed with being shot in the back, or having hubby complaining about bleeding on his leather seats as he drove me to the hospital.
No, the last straw for me was how you made us drive all over the place looking for a hospital because we couldn’t figure out how to make a phone call on my iPhone. I think you already know that my love for the iPhone outweighs any of the benefits you provide me. I am willing to forego the morning and evening nausea after taking you, the noxious gas, the bloated feeling, and even the “I don’t give a rat’s ass about anything” attitude that comes from not being able to have 1 clear thought for more than 2 seconds that I’ve had with you.
As I sit here, craving all manner of junk food and the potential of bloating up to a gazillion pounds and ending up on a Learning Channel show that highlights several construction workers hauling me out of the roof on a crane because I’m too big to fit through a door, at least I don’t want to smoke and that’s what you were there for. I’m going Chantix cold turkey now, mmmm turkey sandwich with deviled eggs.
So, this is good-bye... well, sorta because I know I’ll have to wean myself from you slowly, so I’ll just take you in the morning so I’ll be brain dead by day, which is what I prefer.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
One of "those" days
Before I go throw myself in bed and hope the Mayans were a few years off on the prediction for the end of the world and actually it will happen tomorrow so I don’t have to go to work (yes, I would rather that the whole planet die than go to work... seriously, don’t you?) let me tell you about my day.
Some of you will say “oh geez, really, that’s nothing, let me tell you about MY day” and frankly, just stop right there, I don’t want to hear it. This isn’t a contest, this is all about ME, its MY blog and dammit I had the worst day, there, blue ribbon awarded, contest over.
We start off with an idiot on the road who decided to pace me as I tried to gain enough speed to merge into the treacherous Maryland highway traffic. I nearly sideswiped said idiot because he was right in my blind spot. I slowed, so did he, I sped, so did he. Luckily the mighty 4 cylinder RAV4 was more powerful than his hunk of junk yard waste hauling truck and I outran him before I ran out of merge area... and gave him the finger. If the driver is reading this... I hope you die.
Got into the office and dragged my cup to the Flavia machine and had to wait for three other people to get their coffee before I plunked my foil packet of House Blend in the machine. It made a strange noise, puked out water all over the counter, clunked a few times then told me to call for help as it was mortally wounded. I ignored its pleas and walked over to the other kitchen place ALL the way around the stupid building and got my coffee. Luckily someone was able to fix the issue by the time I was ready for cup #2, but good gah.
When I finally did sit down I see in my e-mail that someone wants me to go to their place for a meeting in an hour. Are you freaking kidding me? I JUST sat down! I respond with a counter-office of after lunch and luckily this appeased them.
Fast forward to after lunch when I’m driving to the place to have the meeting while happily sipping my iced venti 2 pump mocha when I get a funny feeling. Funny as in cold where its not suppose to be and yes, there is the icing on the cake of my day (or so I thought) I am dribbling iced mocha all over the crotch of my tan pants. Lovely, now I look like a projectile pooped my pants or have some sort of horrendously disgusting urinary issue ( and before you laugh, there was a medical case where some guy had colostomy or something and when they hooked the plumbing back up apparently the fudge factory was connected to the lemonade factory, etc. and I’m sure its true because I heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend’s aunt’s sister by marriage via e-mail).
Ok, so luckily I have a jacket in the RAV and I stylishly tie it around my waist with one arm strategically falling over the soiled area, and I totally didn’t look like a dork with poop looking stains walking into the building, nor walking around inside either.
It was at this point that I decided that the day was shot and I should just go home, so I did. Just no reason to hang around while a bird poops on my head or something worse, I’ll just go home and at least have a change of clothes.
Get home and decide to spot clean some... spots. What with two dogs with stomach issues, things were a bit out of control on the carpet, so I steam cleaned some of the more interesting areas, and then went to feed the dogs... and somehow managed to drop Loki’s full food bowl upside down on the kitchen floor. Poor pup didn’t know what to think, but helped me clean up the mess and I got him a fresh bowl of food.
I don’t even want to go into the torrential downpours, the fact that Meeshka slid in mud and dislodged one of the vital jury rigged with duct tape downspout things causing a bit of drainage problems in our back porch thing, because after the dog bowl incident, everything is pretty much a denial situation.
I just checked the weather for tonight and see that we’re suppose to get thunderstorms around 2 am, which means I will be clawed awake by a frantic, panting Meeshka and have to take refuge with her in the guest room... which is pretty much the same as our room, but apparently different in some way that calms her, but I’m stuck sleeping on a non-sleep number bed and will wake up paralyzed. So I guess tomorrow will suck too. Whoot.
Some of you will say “oh geez, really, that’s nothing, let me tell you about MY day” and frankly, just stop right there, I don’t want to hear it. This isn’t a contest, this is all about ME, its MY blog and dammit I had the worst day, there, blue ribbon awarded, contest over.
We start off with an idiot on the road who decided to pace me as I tried to gain enough speed to merge into the treacherous Maryland highway traffic. I nearly sideswiped said idiot because he was right in my blind spot. I slowed, so did he, I sped, so did he. Luckily the mighty 4 cylinder RAV4 was more powerful than his hunk of junk yard waste hauling truck and I outran him before I ran out of merge area... and gave him the finger. If the driver is reading this... I hope you die.
Got into the office and dragged my cup to the Flavia machine and had to wait for three other people to get their coffee before I plunked my foil packet of House Blend in the machine. It made a strange noise, puked out water all over the counter, clunked a few times then told me to call for help as it was mortally wounded. I ignored its pleas and walked over to the other kitchen place ALL the way around the stupid building and got my coffee. Luckily someone was able to fix the issue by the time I was ready for cup #2, but good gah.
When I finally did sit down I see in my e-mail that someone wants me to go to their place for a meeting in an hour. Are you freaking kidding me? I JUST sat down! I respond with a counter-office of after lunch and luckily this appeased them.
Fast forward to after lunch when I’m driving to the place to have the meeting while happily sipping my iced venti 2 pump mocha when I get a funny feeling. Funny as in cold where its not suppose to be and yes, there is the icing on the cake of my day (or so I thought) I am dribbling iced mocha all over the crotch of my tan pants. Lovely, now I look like a projectile pooped my pants or have some sort of horrendously disgusting urinary issue ( and before you laugh, there was a medical case where some guy had colostomy or something and when they hooked the plumbing back up apparently the fudge factory was connected to the lemonade factory, etc. and I’m sure its true because I heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend’s aunt’s sister by marriage via e-mail).
Ok, so luckily I have a jacket in the RAV and I stylishly tie it around my waist with one arm strategically falling over the soiled area, and I totally didn’t look like a dork with poop looking stains walking into the building, nor walking around inside either.
It was at this point that I decided that the day was shot and I should just go home, so I did. Just no reason to hang around while a bird poops on my head or something worse, I’ll just go home and at least have a change of clothes.
Get home and decide to spot clean some... spots. What with two dogs with stomach issues, things were a bit out of control on the carpet, so I steam cleaned some of the more interesting areas, and then went to feed the dogs... and somehow managed to drop Loki’s full food bowl upside down on the kitchen floor. Poor pup didn’t know what to think, but helped me clean up the mess and I got him a fresh bowl of food.
I don’t even want to go into the torrential downpours, the fact that Meeshka slid in mud and dislodged one of the vital jury rigged with duct tape downspout things causing a bit of drainage problems in our back porch thing, because after the dog bowl incident, everything is pretty much a denial situation.
I just checked the weather for tonight and see that we’re suppose to get thunderstorms around 2 am, which means I will be clawed awake by a frantic, panting Meeshka and have to take refuge with her in the guest room... which is pretty much the same as our room, but apparently different in some way that calms her, but I’m stuck sleeping on a non-sleep number bed and will wake up paralyzed. So I guess tomorrow will suck too. Whoot.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
I can't remember
Ok, this whole scatterbrained thing of Chantix has now affected how I take Chantix in that I can’t remember if I took my evening dose of it or not.. now what? Next thing you know I’ll have to set alarms to remind me to go take it, and lay out the pills in little containers that denote the day and time and then the alarm will go off and I’ll get confused and get dressed and go to work at 5pm or something stupid.
Of course I have been considering the possibility that tobacco has killed every last one of my brain cells and I’ll be like this for the rest of my life (except without the gas) and frankly, I’m ok with that really. Apparently when I was coherent I actually worried about things that I didn’t need to worry about, and things actually got done relatively on time (except for sending birthday cards, that never got done on time, so I just started sending birthday cards randomly, because frankly I think its nicer to get a birthday card out of the blue rather than on the day you expect to get a birthday card).
Ok, where was I, yes, the forgetting thing, and since I forgot what I was saying I will say that I had a rip roaring weekend with Icky who drove up here in her rental “car”. I call it a “car” because it had these things you turned to roll down the window, there was no beepy beepy thing that locked and unlocked it, and frankly I was surprised it moved. The lack of technology was astounding... how did people live without power everything?
We hit the thrift store and saw a dude looked like a lady doing some shopping, we mocked the clothes, the people, the fact that workers hung naked barbie dolls in plastic bags, and couldn’t really figure out the whole random stuff in a bag as it didn’t have a common theme (toys and rat poison in one bag... party streamers and condolence cards) we rather liked the whole macabre setting of it though.
What friend visit is complete without a trip to the firing range and lots of eating out. Unfortunately on the new chantix gas, exercise, and no fat diet, the fact that we ate at Red Robin before she left today was a disaster of mammoth proportions about an hour later. Speaking of, one of my pups has the runs and that was yet another fun fest that welcomed hubby and I home. Poor sickly poo tummy pup must have eaten some bad grubs or something. He’s the wee baby of the lot of them, a mamma’s dog that hubby calls a bitchy little girl. Mamma’s dog is competing with Chantix on the international gas off right now, my eyes are watering and I may have to flee the room except for the fact that my ass will still follow me... DAMN YOU RED ROBIN HAMBURGER!!!!!
Gleefully I did not watch any news or read any news web sites, so I can only assume that the world has succumbed to swine flu, the current administration not only spent all of the U.S. money but now feels entitled to spend the money of British citizens, and tomorrow will still be monday and I’ll have to work... sonofa....
Of course I have been considering the possibility that tobacco has killed every last one of my brain cells and I’ll be like this for the rest of my life (except without the gas) and frankly, I’m ok with that really. Apparently when I was coherent I actually worried about things that I didn’t need to worry about, and things actually got done relatively on time (except for sending birthday cards, that never got done on time, so I just started sending birthday cards randomly, because frankly I think its nicer to get a birthday card out of the blue rather than on the day you expect to get a birthday card).
Ok, where was I, yes, the forgetting thing, and since I forgot what I was saying I will say that I had a rip roaring weekend with Icky who drove up here in her rental “car”. I call it a “car” because it had these things you turned to roll down the window, there was no beepy beepy thing that locked and unlocked it, and frankly I was surprised it moved. The lack of technology was astounding... how did people live without power everything?
We hit the thrift store and saw a dude looked like a lady doing some shopping, we mocked the clothes, the people, the fact that workers hung naked barbie dolls in plastic bags, and couldn’t really figure out the whole random stuff in a bag as it didn’t have a common theme (toys and rat poison in one bag... party streamers and condolence cards) we rather liked the whole macabre setting of it though.
What friend visit is complete without a trip to the firing range and lots of eating out. Unfortunately on the new chantix gas, exercise, and no fat diet, the fact that we ate at Red Robin before she left today was a disaster of mammoth proportions about an hour later. Speaking of, one of my pups has the runs and that was yet another fun fest that welcomed hubby and I home. Poor sickly poo tummy pup must have eaten some bad grubs or something. He’s the wee baby of the lot of them, a mamma’s dog that hubby calls a bitchy little girl. Mamma’s dog is competing with Chantix on the international gas off right now, my eyes are watering and I may have to flee the room except for the fact that my ass will still follow me... DAMN YOU RED ROBIN HAMBURGER!!!!!
Gleefully I did not watch any news or read any news web sites, so I can only assume that the world has succumbed to swine flu, the current administration not only spent all of the U.S. money but now feels entitled to spend the money of British citizens, and tomorrow will still be monday and I’ll have to work... sonofa....
Friday, May 1, 2009
What a Wonderful Day
Yesterday I got my new passport in the mail. It came with a brochure that gave you all sorts of info (sign the stupid thing in pen, put your address and ER contact in pencil, don’t lose it moron), and on the back of the pamphlet there is a handy Influenza Pandemic blurb complete with web site... um, do influenza pandemics break out all over the world without my knowledge or was this just a wacky coincidence that there’s one going on right now?
After Wii cardio kicked my butt, I got out of the house to run my friday chores. Had to pick up a refill on the beautiful Chantix (I admit dear Chantix, I did take three puffs from a menthol cig the other day, then spent the next hour dry heaving... I’ve learned (sigh) yes I have), which required me to go to a drugstore... during a pandemic... sonofa...
Yep, you betcha. Despite the fact that all of 8 people in Maryland HAD what they suspect was swine flu (but have recovered without hospitalization and absolutely no bad mojo) and are STILL waiting for the official results, and despite the fact that the Governor has convened a “Swine Flu Advisory Board” (cha ching, taxpayer money go flush), there was someone in the pharmacy drive through window screaming at the technician that they wanted FIVE packs of paper masks and why can’t she go get the Tami-flu stuff from the store and bring it to her. I laughed. I laughed harder when the tech said “ma’am, you have your paper mask, come into the store and get it yourself, this is the window for prescriptions”. I hear they closed a school... the horses must still be in their barn there.
Speaking of horses, I’ve decided that on my resume I’m going to put that I own two horse racing tracks, several banks and 2 car manufacturers.
After the terror of the swine flu pharmacy visit, I went to eat at a spot that we call the “usual friday lunch spot”. We loved this place, just opened, the bartender is fantastic, food is fantastic, service is fantastic, prices are pretty good, but its a comfortable place to go. Except that apparently bartender is no longer there, service sucks, the food is going downhill, and the waiter actually hounded our party to look over timeshare pamphlets from his second job. Um... so much for the “usual friday lunch spot”.
Icky is driving up so we can Thelma and Louise all weekend. This, of course, meant that the home alarm system went bat shit and started beeping wildly. Apparently the back up battery is dying, as batteries tend to do. The helpful help guy that I called said we can just go out and get another, we only have to wrap some wires on the thing and... um, F that, I pay for a maintenance agreement so
a.) why didn’t someone call and tell me “hey, your battery is old, better replace it, and
b.) I pay a maintenance agreement, get one of your techs out to do it
So, monday from 8am until the third of 2010, a technician will be out. Great. In the meantime we can expect the random beeping of the ”battery is dying“ thing... hey, we didn’t want to leave the house this weekend anyway, really... f’ers.
I think that Icky and I will go buy some $540 sneakers and go help out at a homeless shelter... ok, screw that, I’m wearing 2 year old chucks that I got on sale for $15 and going to a thrift store. What says ”F YOU“ better than wearing $540 sneakers at a food bank as you hand out some cake. I take my three dogs out at 5 a.m. and feed them every morning (before going to a full time job) and I do it in a pair of Walmart knock off sneakers... because cleaning poop off of Lanvin and Gucci is just too much work. My all time favorite quote is: “They’re shoes,” the First Lady’s reps sniffed when curious reporters inquired about the fancy footwear.“ Um... you want us to tighten our belts while you blow money on $540 shoes, fly Air Force One and scare the shit out of New York, and the myriad of other ways you shovel OUR money out the door... hello, media? Sara Palin wardrobe frenzy and yet here... nothing?
After Wii cardio kicked my butt, I got out of the house to run my friday chores. Had to pick up a refill on the beautiful Chantix (I admit dear Chantix, I did take three puffs from a menthol cig the other day, then spent the next hour dry heaving... I’ve learned (sigh) yes I have), which required me to go to a drugstore... during a pandemic... sonofa...
Yep, you betcha. Despite the fact that all of 8 people in Maryland HAD what they suspect was swine flu (but have recovered without hospitalization and absolutely no bad mojo) and are STILL waiting for the official results, and despite the fact that the Governor has convened a “Swine Flu Advisory Board” (cha ching, taxpayer money go flush), there was someone in the pharmacy drive through window screaming at the technician that they wanted FIVE packs of paper masks and why can’t she go get the Tami-flu stuff from the store and bring it to her. I laughed. I laughed harder when the tech said “ma’am, you have your paper mask, come into the store and get it yourself, this is the window for prescriptions”. I hear they closed a school... the horses must still be in their barn there.
Speaking of horses, I’ve decided that on my resume I’m going to put that I own two horse racing tracks, several banks and 2 car manufacturers.
After the terror of the swine flu pharmacy visit, I went to eat at a spot that we call the “usual friday lunch spot”. We loved this place, just opened, the bartender is fantastic, food is fantastic, service is fantastic, prices are pretty good, but its a comfortable place to go. Except that apparently bartender is no longer there, service sucks, the food is going downhill, and the waiter actually hounded our party to look over timeshare pamphlets from his second job. Um... so much for the “usual friday lunch spot”.
Icky is driving up so we can Thelma and Louise all weekend. This, of course, meant that the home alarm system went bat shit and started beeping wildly. Apparently the back up battery is dying, as batteries tend to do. The helpful help guy that I called said we can just go out and get another, we only have to wrap some wires on the thing and... um, F that, I pay for a maintenance agreement so
a.) why didn’t someone call and tell me “hey, your battery is old, better replace it, and
b.) I pay a maintenance agreement, get one of your techs out to do it
So, monday from 8am until the third of 2010, a technician will be out. Great. In the meantime we can expect the random beeping of the ”battery is dying“ thing... hey, we didn’t want to leave the house this weekend anyway, really... f’ers.
I think that Icky and I will go buy some $540 sneakers and go help out at a homeless shelter... ok, screw that, I’m wearing 2 year old chucks that I got on sale for $15 and going to a thrift store. What says ”F YOU“ better than wearing $540 sneakers at a food bank as you hand out some cake. I take my three dogs out at 5 a.m. and feed them every morning (before going to a full time job) and I do it in a pair of Walmart knock off sneakers... because cleaning poop off of Lanvin and Gucci is just too much work. My all time favorite quote is: “They’re shoes,” the First Lady’s reps sniffed when curious reporters inquired about the fancy footwear.“ Um... you want us to tighten our belts while you blow money on $540 shoes, fly Air Force One and scare the shit out of New York, and the myriad of other ways you shovel OUR money out the door... hello, media? Sara Palin wardrobe frenzy and yet here... nothing?
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