malformed lump of a week
Sunday: Waste most of the day with a stupid computer game and aimless puttering about. At 5pm, I start feeling iffy. By 6, I am on a strict hourly vomiting regimen until 3am Monday morning.
Monday: Try to gather my wits about me after the Food Poisoning Fiesta. By “gathering my wits,” I mean “feebly circling my apartment, chewing ice cubes.”
Tuesday: I have no memory of Tuesday. Apparently I go to work. Pure survival mode.
Wednesday: I am a momentary raging bitch at work and get yelled at. Beach myself on the shores of self-pity most of the day. Manage to get work done before going home and falling into a hard, black sleep.
Thursday: Court day. I am due to appear in front of Judge Meanie, to tell him I am going to pay my $450 fine today and enroll in traffic school. In the morning, upon double checking my court papers, I realize I was supposed to appear on January 26, not January 29. This means another point on my record and another 3 years of misery. Fortunately, after some quick thinking and a brief appearance in court, Judge Meanie agrees to let me go to traffic school after all. I gratefully write a check for $464 — for fine, court costs, and traffic school (not counting the actual cost of traffic school. I know, that confuses me, too.) I spend the evening sewing until Darling Andrew takes me out and gets me drunk. Maybe I get myself drunk. At any rate: drunk.
Friday: A productive day at work. In the late afternoon, I attend the online “HAPPY TRAFFIC SCHOOL!!” (caps and punctuation theirs.) While slogging through page after page of driving rules, I was aggravated by dozen of random bits of inserted text such as
A road with an unpaved or “soft” shoulder or no shoulder at all is inherently dangerous because there is no escape route to the right. The author loves his shoulders massaged.
What? It turns out I was supposed to remember those stupid things, as they appear as “security questions” on the final exam. Do all schools do this? At any rate, I squeak by and am one step closer to a clean DMV record.
Which would make for a good day, except at dinner I mistook Worcestershire Sauce for balsamic vinegar, which made for a sad salad experience.
Saturday: I wake up at 11:00 and am both angry at my sloth and fearful that my megasleep might indicate I’m becoming sick again. I rush around, trying to catch up with chores. After about an hour I look at the clock again and it is barely 10:00. Somehow I mistook a 9 for an 11.
And how was your week?
School & study, missed dance class. I am looking for a recipe for that Indian dish that has spinach and fresh cheese in it. My only friend is food.
I hope the weekend is like a baptism of sorts & you get some rest.
The highlight of my week was surprising you, sitting together over drinks until our hearts stood on the edge of respective canyons and belted out “Time” by Tom Waits. I love you Becky.
My week was a series of tantrums and communication challenges. Started this new week with ellen’s birthday hike in a a forest-and much yummy food made by ellen and kit . Someone told me that last week was mercury’s fault but I’m pretty sure it was all half my fault. Here’s to a new week of *try again*!!!
Oh, what is up with the universe?
I have been in hyper-grump mode all week long with no end in sight.
After a week end of less that satisfying experiences….I am sure I need a break.
Missed seeing you around. And I guess you may not be around this week end either….or I won’t.
Well….take care of yourself and call if you get crazy.
J