My friend Melaine tells me pretty often that more happens in three hours of my life, than happens to her in three weeks... I don't know if that is usually true, but in the case of the last 24, it is! I began yesterday morning feeling tired (because I got a second job that I like to pretend that I hate, but secretly love) and catching a bit of the news before dashing out the door to work. On the news, I saw a fire in Mt. Washington overnight... I paused for a second and then turned the TV off as I had to go, but not before I thought to myself, wow... I hope my friend from work is okay then nah... can't be. When I got into work I found out a different co-worker, sadly, had passed away.
Almost immediately after I found out my co-worker and friend (the one I had though of earlier) lost everything he had in a fire, but not the one that was on the news. Saddened and puzzled, because I was told "not to say anything" (Because sometimes that's how work politics go...) I was now upset for him but couldn't say anthing to him. Wierd...
Moving forward with my day, I did some late home visits and the mother that's never there, wasn't there again... no surprise and then over to my Dad's house to pick up some mail. While there, I called him to see where he was and he was on his way home from hunting. Like the good daughter I am, I said I would stay till he got home, and help him unload the car. Knowing that he would be exhausted and sore. However, there was some left over birthday cake on the stove, which seemed like a great reward for my good-daughter efforts, so I helped myself to a piece.
As I am eating the half-stale cake from my favorite bakery, while sitting in the recliner, watching the show House... I - began - to - choke! And what I can tell you is this, there are two types of choking, the type where you think to yourself "wrong pipe, arms up" and then there is the type that you think to yourself "holy shit, I'm in trouble here". I didn't know this until yesterday, but believe me when I tell you it's true, and the type of choking I was doing, was the latter! My immediate response was to run to the garbage can and cough... HARD. Finally...I threw up --- and pee'd, (which wasn't humiliating at all!!) but I still wasn't getting any air. I thought of calling someone but what would I say "Ehh Ehh?" So I threw up again alas and pee'd again :-( but then, I had air. My main thought though the whole process was "Oh my God, he's going to come home from hunting and find me dead, on birthday cake." And if you can't see the levels of irony in that sentence, I can't help you with it.
So me and my pee pee pants helped dad unload when he got home, went home, changed and went back out to the grocery store. While there I picked up a jar of marinara sauce for myself... and then I dropped it, and it exploded, and I was on the phone. So now, I'm that asshole in isle 5 who just dropped a can of spaghetti sauce while on my cell phone. Being the good samaratin I am, I went to the front counter, while asking another patron to "watch" the explosion I had left on the floor (as though someone could miss it!), and offered to clean up the mess. The woman was very nice and promptly asked someone else to do it. Not me, not her... that works for me. :-) So I slink back to the isle and try to look unassuming and innocent as I get a second jar of sauce (this time with no phone and a much firmer grip) and I proceed to the checkout line.
In the checkout line I get behind a man who is suffering from a severe handicap. My first response was to get out of line because I knew it was going to take forever (it was the self check-out) but then I thought to myself, "people must do this to him all the time... no, I am going to stay." I considered asking him for help but then I thought, well maybe he doesn't want help... since he got in the checkout line. Determined not to look annoyed... I stood there, glancing at magazines, offering help at two points (once I was wrong!), and being patient... for 45 minutes. Just long enough to hear the unfortunate soul who had cleaned up a whole jar of spaghetti sauce that some idiot dropped, return to the front of the store and vocalize his displeasure with it. I was done with the good samaratin act at this point, I finally changed lines as the man in front of me was packing up his groceries.
I headed home and cooked some cheese sticks for myself (with spaghetti sauce for dip) and in the process I burned my hand so bad that it didn't blister, it just melted off. Awesome. Fell asleep on the couch, missed Boston Legal, woke up when it was over and then couldn't fall asleep until 3 am. Man... am I glad yesterday is over!
Whew! Sorry for the long post! ~Michele~