| | ~Winding Down~
I made copious notes [for the most part] while I was away, because I knew that alcohol might or might not be involved in my daily routine, and IF it is, I can't be relied upon to remember shit. Which apparently included making regular entries into my notes.
By Monday morning, I was a gruesome sight. Sleeping on the couch [comfy as it was] had taken a toll on my sleep AND my bad hip. It didn't take a Rocket Scientist to see that I was in a bad way.
Then there was the leg wound to top it off.
Bratsis  and Buttmunch had apparently talked while I was still sleeping [again] and when I got up my sister asked me if I would be averse to leaving that day. "Hell, no!" I said. "I need to get into a bed before I get to the point where I can't walk at all."
Despite everything, THEY left without their cell phone chargers. I put mine away after every charging because I didn't want to face The Wrath of KP if it got left at The Herbowski Spa and Resort [whose motto is "We Don't Need No Stinkin' Ocean!"].
I came home to find The Boy had rearranged the living room ["I needed more room around my desk," he said.] He had cleaned out the hallway, which is why I could just wheel my computer chair down to the bedroom door to wake him up when The Mother called at 5:23 am. Rather neat, that.
The trouble is, he's not getting RID of shit; he's just piling it up somewhere else, and when I have to find something it's going to drive me apeshit crazy.
Anyway, back in the day, every summer for a couple of years I would fly to Florida to spend about two weeks with Bratsis . I was always told that if I was coming to stay there for free, I HAD to bring them some White Castle Burgers. Which I dutifully did, EVERY FRICKEN TIME.
Come to find out, years later, that they told this to every person who was coming to stay with them, and I was the ONLY person to actually do it.
I KNOW! 
How rude of those others!
Now, the reason I mention this is that on this trip, Bratsis had a 'shopping list' of food items she HAD to bring back for her hubby, The Beast [although when HE goes on these trips alone he rarely stops and brings all this stuff with HIM. Chauvinistic PIG!] He wanted some Italian Beef [which we picked up from a place called Portillo's], some Polish sausage [unfortunately, the place Bratsis previously bought it from had gone out of business], some White Castle Burgers and a certain brand of 'Gringo Tamales' [as I call them because they are not Mexican], which Kay's sister hooks her up with.
When we hit Route 80 we had gotten the tamales and the beef, and Buttmunch said she had a place that had a woman from Chicago who made Polish sausage for them, so they would try there for those, and of course, White Castles are available in Kentucky. [I haven't yet asked Bratsis if she got all her stuff.]
So, I get home and The Boy reads me the Riot Act for the leg thing and I am booting up Hawk, who was unplugged and moved while I was gone] and we can't get my damned mouse to work. It's a cordless mouse, and I love it, so I almost took The Boy's head off when he suggested I get a corded mouse to use. "Dammit, it was working when I left and it better get working again!"
The Boy got it working, so he got to live.
I didn't do much online except post that I had arrived home, because I wanted to chat a bit with The Boy [and the stupid cats] before I rushed into bed. Since then, I haven't been sleeping over three hours at a time, and I'm hoping that's going to change VERY SOON, because I JUST WANT TO SLEEP A WHOLE SIX TO EIGHT HOURS. All at one time.
I feel like I've caught a cold, besides. There's some chest congestion I can feel and I think I'm losing my voice [yes, that is the sound of The Boy cheering that you hear] and I've been a bit off my feed. The Boy made nachos the other night and I barely touched them. Wednesday night he found some steaks on sale and made me eat one [which I did, and which I enjoyed] because he remembered the people at the Wound Center said that I should eat a high protein diet because it contributes to healing.
The leg wound is scabbing over, and OMG, that hurts. It feels just like last summer. Sheesh. The mosquito bites I got that didn't bother me until now have all started to itch at once [  ] and the itches are what woke me up at 2 am. Boobs was not a happy cat when I got out of bed because it meant HE had to move his fat butt, too. Stupid cat.
My molting continues unabated, and it's really weird to scratch my ear and peel off a piece of skin. Never did that before. 
And the celebrities continue to drop like flies. Karl Malden has died at the age of 97. RIP.
The Boy is still employed at the same place, and for the time being the mandatory one hour overtime each day is cancelled. The Boy says it will return though. But he's happy because he said that extra hour really made his days seem like long ones.
And as I get ready to post this, it's July the 3rd, which means that the crazy assholes that make up Indiana are going to start blowing off fireworks at any time and will continue to do so for over 24 hours. This is one of my most unfavorite holidays since living in Indiana.
But I shall get through it, and Hootie will once again spend it under our bed because the loud noises scare the hell out of him.
You know what this means, right.
I'm HOME, baby. And it's the Same Shit, Different Day.
Happy Independence Day to My Fellow Americans.
.
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| | Posted 7/4/2009 12:05 AM - 11 Views - 2 eProps - 2 comments
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