So, hey — I love Tom Petty. But I love him in a weird way that’s not very practical. I won’t buy his music, because then it’s not A Thing when I hear him on the radio. I was the same way with Led Zepplin for forever and then I bought an album or two and now when they come on the radio, instead of being all WHOOOOOO THE MIGHTY ZEP TURN IT UUUUUP! I’m just all, Eh, I will listen to that later. On my iPod. That’s wrong and pathetic and I won’t let it happen to me and Tom.
I’m on a lot of prednisone because of this drug allergy and oh my, is it making me mean. Ask my kids about how awful I have been and especially about me screeching at them to stop fighting and they will totally back me up so long as they don’t think I’m close enough to reach over and whack them upside the head.
(I’m ALWAYS close enough for that.)
Poor Sophie had a fever and sore throat and headache and ear aches (bilateral, natch), and leg pain, and so tonight my mom and sister pitched in to tag team babysit the remaining children while I took her to the ER so that she wouldn’t have to suffer all night. They gave her a mask in the ER, so she would not spread the love to the other patients. That was fine, but I think with the 101+ fever she got a little hot and so then she puked all in the sink of the waiting room bathroom.
That was fun to clean up. No, really. I mean, it wasn’t MY house, so I was all whistling while I worked, you know?
One of the male nurses was such an asshole to me. I caught myself short of saying to him, Look, dipshit, I am NICE, stop being a dumbass to me. Ha. Haha. Basically, he asked if Soph had ever had a bladder infection before, and I said, Huh, I don’t think so, have you Soph?
And HE SAID:
Uh. Aren’t you her MOTHER? And you don’t even KNOW THAT?
That dude, I bet, NOT A PARENT.
In the end, she’s just a little dehydrated, has a viral fevery thing, and needs to rest and drink her fluids and hopefully keep the ears from getting infected.
Last Monday the class I’ve been wanting to take for months began, and of course that was the very day I started getting that reaction. I was too sick to turn on my computer for a little bit there. That’s sick, people. In addition to no internets, I had no coffee and no beer. By choice. For like, days on end. But tonight I got all caught up (with the class, not the coffee and beer. Yet.) and turns out if I had to check out for a week, this was probably the week to do it.
Next weekend, SG and I are going to the central coast (where Eden and her family were last weekend, actually) and I am supposed to stay out of the sun, but I am still determined to get out of here for a good 30 something hours. It will be the first day of spring, the last day of me being closer to 39 than 40 (this is more interesting to me than it is terrifying, I’m not all Woe is me, I am so elderly, but my birthday is on the last day of summer, and I like patterns and stuff like that), and the first weekend we’ll have had all to ourselves since January. I think we could maybe go see a movie and eat hot dogs without buns, and we’d be all, DAMN, that was a GREAT vacation! The Best Ever! And that’s what long stretches of hard times, do, right? They make all the nice and regular type stuff, Really! Super! Appreciated! I mean, you know, even though the universe has been all Lucy on me, I’m totally all about making contact with the ball soon.