So...right now I've been attacked by the PMS monster. My leg hurts...my back hurts...I feel bloated...and I'm glad my desk chair has adjustible arm rests because my ASS FEELS LIKE IT'S EXPANDING AS I TYPE.
*sigh*
So...despite my best wants to the contrary...I ate a gigantenormous number of mini-donuts last night. If you're from Chicago...Butternut mini "gems" as they used to be called are a classic. In their yellow happy paper bag full of powdery or chocolately goodness. Thing is...whenever the mini donut craving hits I want powdered AND chocolate covered and it's all I can do to not sit down and eat both bags.
Well...lucky for me I have a dog.
I left my bag of powdered mini-donuts momentarily unattended...and the next thing I know Rerun is running around the living room with a donut bag on his head bumping into things like a deranged pinball.
My yell of..."AAAAAAAHHHH....my donuts!" brought Tim out of the dining room to fish the bag off of Rerun's head and give him a good..."No...no...baddoggie!"
Rerun slunk around on the floor...as is his usual response...and then submissively rolled over to show his belly.
He had powdered sugar all around his nose. Are there doggie coke addicts?
Anyway...I just couldn't be mad at him. He saved me from 1300 calories of mini donuts...and made me smile.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Oh I hate to get up in the Mooorning!
Why can't I get to work on time?
I'm sure my boss would love to know the answer to that question too. Hell...I'd like to know the answer to that question.
This morning...I woke up with the dog laying on my back. I don't usually sleep face down...but I must have rolled over and eventually Rerun must have thought..."Hey...Mom is warm...I think I'll sleep on her."
But I didn't wake up for it. Sometimes I don't wake up for my alarm. Sometimes I sit in bed in a semi-conscious state for almost an hour because my brain was aroused at a time when the wonders of Effexor made it incredibly flush with serotonin. I sit in my half-coma as Tim hands me my coffee and glasses.
So I wait. Wait for whatever magic is in the coffee to kick in. Wait for that time when I can think in a coherent sentence. Sometimes I read a magazine...and after I feel I can actually FOLLOW along with what I'm reading...I start moving for the day. Sometimes I load or unload the dishwasher...those are GOOD days when I can actually attempt a physical task.
Where did the morning sleepy paranoia come from? It came from the sleety morning when there was an accident on 290 so I decided to take Ridgeland/Nagle to work. I was somewhere around Fullerton when a car hydroplaned in front of me...and in my half-asleep state I overcompensated....popped the curb...splashed latte ALL OVER MY FUCKING CAR...and "woke up" with my car on the sidewalk. Right next to a bus shelter.
Three feet...and I would have swerved into a bus shelter full of people.
And ever since then driving to work in the morning has been an anxious...nerve wracking and disappointing experience. Disappointing because I want to be on time...but panic and nervousness that only comes from having that near-near-death-experience happen just gets in the way. The doctor has me waking up at 6am. I have this list of crap I'm supposed to do that I never get done but try. Sometimes I forget to shower. Sometimes I lose my keys or socks or whatever. And some days...the dog sleeps on me and I'm just too warm and calm and comfortable to get out of bed and face the day.
I'm sure my boss would love to know the answer to that question too. Hell...I'd like to know the answer to that question.
This morning...I woke up with the dog laying on my back. I don't usually sleep face down...but I must have rolled over and eventually Rerun must have thought..."Hey...Mom is warm...I think I'll sleep on her."
But I didn't wake up for it. Sometimes I don't wake up for my alarm. Sometimes I sit in bed in a semi-conscious state for almost an hour because my brain was aroused at a time when the wonders of Effexor made it incredibly flush with serotonin. I sit in my half-coma as Tim hands me my coffee and glasses.
So I wait. Wait for whatever magic is in the coffee to kick in. Wait for that time when I can think in a coherent sentence. Sometimes I read a magazine...and after I feel I can actually FOLLOW along with what I'm reading...I start moving for the day. Sometimes I load or unload the dishwasher...those are GOOD days when I can actually attempt a physical task.
Where did the morning sleepy paranoia come from? It came from the sleety morning when there was an accident on 290 so I decided to take Ridgeland/Nagle to work. I was somewhere around Fullerton when a car hydroplaned in front of me...and in my half-asleep state I overcompensated....popped the curb...splashed latte ALL OVER MY FUCKING CAR...and "woke up" with my car on the sidewalk. Right next to a bus shelter.
Three feet...and I would have swerved into a bus shelter full of people.
And ever since then driving to work in the morning has been an anxious...nerve wracking and disappointing experience. Disappointing because I want to be on time...but panic and nervousness that only comes from having that near-near-death-experience happen just gets in the way. The doctor has me waking up at 6am. I have this list of crap I'm supposed to do that I never get done but try. Sometimes I forget to shower. Sometimes I lose my keys or socks or whatever. And some days...the dog sleeps on me and I'm just too warm and calm and comfortable to get out of bed and face the day.
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