Showing posts with label husbands who don't do what they say they will. Show all posts
Showing posts with label husbands who don't do what they say they will. Show all posts

Friday, June 4, 2010

The one where I play a game...

So I'm sitting here this morning in a very bad mood. It's not important why, it's just the normal usual crap around my house that irritates and annoys. And then I log in and see that I lost a follower?! The hell?! Who are you and where did you go? Better yet, why did you go? Am I losing my edge? Did your ridiculous conversation meter fill up? WWWWHHHHYYYY?! It's ridiculous how badly my ego is tied to this blog. I take your defection personally, you know. But fine, whatever, I don't need you. Yes, yes I do. Please come back. Or someone new, please take that empty chair!

Anywho, on a calmer note, being in a bad mood is not helping me write a blog. I don't want to write a bitchy ass blog because well, that's not what I do and it's not what you come hear to read. Besides, by tomorrow (okay, probably by the time I shower) I will be over it and then I would feel badly if I had written it down, especially in a public forum. Just suffice it to say my husband's job takes up way too much of his time. Do you hear that Boy Scout peeps who read this blog??! No one should have to work 24/7 (and ignore his wife) on the piddly ass salary he does. If you're going to require complete devotion, back breaking physical labor, and the 110% that he gives you, you should probably pay more so that he can assuage my anger with money. It wouldn't help on the him having no time part, but it would help because I would travel more so I wouldn't be home to care.

So I decided to do this fun little game that Kenzie over at The Unabridged Girl tagged me for. It's about your handwriting. Everyone seems to hate their handwriting. I don't. I like mine. I had this 5th grade teacher who actually made us practice penmanship. We had to fill whole pages with these writing exercises. I hated it! But now I can thank her, because hey, you can read my writing! I'm not sure what the purpose of this game is exactly, but it was cute and fun. Of course, if any handwriting experts read it, I may be in trouble. I'm sure my handwriting screams "psycho". Lol.

So the rules were:

Write down the following, snap a picture (or scan the document), post it, and tag others.

1. Name/Blog Name.
2. Right handed, left handed or both?
3. Favorite letters to write?
4. Least favorite letters to write?
5. Write: The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.
6. Write in caps:
CRAB
HUMOR
KALEIDOSCOPE
PAJAMAS
GAZILLION
7. Favorite song lyrics?
8. Tag some lovely bloggers.
9. Any special note or drawing?




TGIF,
♥Spot

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Tuesday or the day I spent in purgatory...

Oh. My. Stars. You would not believe the day I've had. And yet, here I am at 10:30 at night blogging it so you have something to read. I know, I'm a total martyr. But not quite because I'm pretty sure you have to be dead to be a martyr and I'm not ready to be dead. So maybe I'm just a masochist instead. Which isn't nearly as cool. But they both start with "m". So I guess I'll take it.

Now...I want to preface this post with the fact that I am (usually) a really really nice person. I smile at complete strangers, I am polite, and I firmly believe you catch more flies with honey, then vinegar. (translation from old south to english: you get more by being nice then mean.) And I rarely lose my temper in public. Oh...but today...

My day started out pretty normally. I woke up before the alarm at 7:45, reached for my cell phone, checked messages. And then Cujo (black kitty) jumped on the bed for some ear scratches. Mo (Lulu) passes through the room on her way to the bathroom. She looks like death warmed over. She got to the house yesterday evening and said she hadn't been feeling well. That she thought her UTI (bladder infection) hadn't gone away even though she was done with the antibiotics. So she gets in the shower, I get coffee and answer emails. Then I get the shower and get ready to leave. By the time we're ready to leave she's laying on my bed moaning. Her left lower back is killing her, she's chilling and running a fever. So I tell her we are going to ER as soon as she gets her blood test done.

We hop in my car, I start it up and it's making this squeaking sound that I've never heard before. When I try to turn the wheel, I notice the power steering is not working. It's like turning a Mack truck. (Okay, I might be wrong, because I've really never driven a Mack truck, but I'm pretty sure they're hard to turn.) So we decide to take her car. Get in, readjust everything (because she's so short!) so I can drive. As we pass the drive to hubby's workshop, I spot him outside and wave him over. I quickly explain the car sitch. He says he'll call Brian. I say, you should probably get in and at least start it so you see what I mean so that you can tell him better. He says he'll take care of it. I have a witness (Mo) that he said this!!!

We get to town, go to the cancer center for her blood work, and then proceed to the ER. Not too many people sitting around so there's hope this will be quick. By this time, she's in tears and goes to lay down on a bench. I get in line behind this woman with 3 small children (and pregnant with a fourth) and the children are wild. I mean all over the place, touching everything with their little germy fingers. And yes, they were all being checked in. Now, I had 3 kids under 3 yrs of age and one of them was autistic for Pete's sake and they never behaved like that. So then they wheel in this guy in a wheel chair who's in obvious pain and the nurse says he needs to check in first. Not a problem, dude's seriously not well. I get that. But then it's my turn to check Mo in and there's a guy in line behind me, when another receptionist comes to the desk and checks in some guy who just walked in!!! I've been standing here for 25 minutes. Are you for real?? He doesn't even look sick!

So we finally get her checked in and then we sit down to wait for the triage nurse. They take back an elderly woman who comes in with chest pain in front of us, okay I get that too. This girl who comes in coughing in her hands, when every preschooler knows you cough in your elbow to avoid spreading germs comes in and sits right across from us!! Like there's no other seats Ebola girl?? It's another 30 minutes and they've taken in 'off the street' guy and a few others who should have been after us and I'm getting angry. Molly's ex boyfriend texts me and I tell him about my car because he's also a mechanic and he offers to go look at it for me. I say I'll text hubby to see if he's called Brian yet. I text him. He texts back: I thought you were going to. OH MY BOB!!! No, he didn't. He told me he'd take care of it. Is this really what I need??? I tell him Michael is coming over to look at it. Two minutes later he texts that he called Brian and he's coming out to look at it too and where are the keys? Um. My keys are in my purse because I tried to use it this morning. Where are your keys? He texts he doesn't know. Mo says "wasn't he supposed to go drive it so he'd know the noise it was making". Well, I thought he was but apparently he didn't get the memo. Huge surprise. He dropped the ball again. Maybe because it has nothing to do with work. So then he says he'll have Brian come get my keys. Whatever. Fine. I'm pissed now.

Brian calls me two minutes later.
Brian: where are you at?
Me: The ER waiting room.
Brian: Where's that?
Me: The hospital. Duh.
Brian: How do I get there?
Me: For real? You don't know where the hospital is? You've lived in town for over a year!
Brian: The one on 11th & Broadway?
Me: The only one in town? Yes, that would be it. The parking lot for ER is off Broadway and the doors are right there.
Brian: Well I'm on 18th street. How do I get there?
Me: *huge exasperated sigh* Drive to Broadway and then head towards the river. You can't miss it. It's the really big building that says Hospital on the side!!!

So then I go to the reception desk because my baby is crying she's in so much pain. I ask if they have any freakin idea how much longer it might be since they keep taking other people back. About that time the nurse comes out and calls Mo's name. We go back to triage and explain the pain, the fever, the nausea, the chills, the fact that she'd already had a full course of antibiotics for the UTI. And the fact that she has a blood disorder and her platelets are probably low. The one nurse takes her to the restroom to get a urine while I finish answering questions. The other nurse comes back and says we'll send her to urgent care. And I say~

Me: No. You won't. She needs to be seen in ER because they will want to do IV fluids and antibiotics.

Nurse: You think it's more then just a UTI?

Me: Considering the fever, the chills and the fact she's already been treated for a UTI once? Um. Yeah. I think it's a freakin kidney infection.

Nurse: oh. alright then.

But they have no ER beds so back to the waiting room we go. Thankfully, about this time Brian calls and says hubby found his keys so he doesn't have to come get them after all. Twenty minutes later they finally get us back, get her into a gown and into a bed. The nurse says we'll need a urine. We inform her they already did that and I tell her that they already did a CBC at the cancer center and they can probably call for those results (hoping to save her at least one needle stick). The doctor comes in and thankfully it's one of the good ones! (we have some really bad ones). He asks questions, examines her, asks if there's a family history of kidney stones (yes) and kidney infections (yes). He says he'll start her on IV fluids and get her some painkillers and something for nausea while he waits for test results. Thirty minutes go by. My child is still squirming because she's in so much pain she can't get comfortable. I go out to the nurses station and ask them why it takes 30 minutes to get IV fluids and painkillers for a sick child (yeah, I know technically she's been an adult for 5 weeks but whatever). They come in and it takes two tries to get the IV in. They start the fluids and give her the painkillers and something for nausea. Then the lab comes in for a completely different blood test then the one she had. Then, thanks to the painkiller, she passes out. I realize it's now 1:30 and I haven't had anything but a half cup of coffee today and I'm starving!!! What to do? I can't leave her. My blood sugar has got to be amazingly low and I'm about to start gnawing on my own leg when I remember that I have a half a candy bar in my purse! Yes! Not only do I have sustenance, I have chocolate sustenance!! Hooray!! So I scarfed down a half a Hershey bar so fast it would make your head swim! Crisis averted.

An hour later, Mo is still out and I've read a considerable amount of the book I threw in my purse this morning. The doctor comes in and says definitely a kidney infection. They are going to do some more fluids and IV antibiotics but she can go home after that. Platelets are low but not dangerously low. So the nurse comes in and hangs the antibiotics. Another hour goes by. Mo's still asleep and I'm finished with the book. Finally, finally we get released.

You'd think the ordeal is over right? Well you'd think wrong! Because now we have to go get her prescriptions filled. So we drive thru the pharmacy drive thru to drop them off. The lady at the window says "can you give us half an hour?". Okay. I can kill half an hour. We go to the video store because Mo wants to see I Love You Beth Cooper. We kill 25 minutes in there looking for movies (m-t-w is rent one new release, get a library title free). Then I drive back to the pharmacy, pop thru the drive thru and oh holy crap it's her. "Her" being the pharmacy lady from hell. Seriously she moves slower than molasses and I honestly believe that she might be a little um..."slow". And I'm all for giving developmentally disabled people jobs (CJ will someday have one) but not in the pharmacy!! We pull up I give her the name (everyone else at the pharmacy knows our names) and after 5 minutes she comes back empty handed and says "they're just getting to it, it'll be 20 minutes". For freakin real? It takes 50 minutes to count out 17 pills? What? Do they make their own bottles now?? I live 30 minutes out of town people. I can't just pop home and then come back. Mo's painkillers have worn off and my blood sugar is dropping dangerously low into 'you haven't even seen cranky yet' territory. Honestly, I nearly went through the drive thru window and smacked her. Instead I headed to the grocery store. Picked up some things for supper and some cranberry juice for Mo. Headed back to the pharmacy. There are now 7 cars in line for the drive thru and I know if she's still working the window we could be here for days. So I park and go in. Go up to the window, the medicine is ready (meanwhile she is still working on the first cars prescription). And lucky me...Halloween candy is conveniently on clearance! I deserve this clearance candy.

Eventually we made it home. I got Mo settled on the couch in the family room, dosed her up with painkillers, got her a heating pad and glass of juice. Fixed supper all the while regaling hubby and Sean with the tribulations of my day. We sat down in the family room to eat, watched Mo's movie and here I am. Sharing my godawful day which I spent in what must surely be purgatory with you, my friends. I hope it was at least worth a laugh. Hubby is still confused as to how I ended up with a half of a candy bar in my purse. I'm not sure why that's the important part of the story to him?? And I did text an apology to Brian for being grumpy with him. I told him I was angry with the hospital and hubby not him. And the car? Power steering fluid was empty. Apparently I have a slow leak. This could be minor, could be major. Guess we'll find out. At least it's drivable again.

Please please let tomorrow be a better day!

yes, I really said the "f" word in public,
♥Spot

Monday, October 5, 2009

And you're gonna do that when?

So first off today….lets have a big “Woot Woot”. I have 11 followers!! That’s double digits baby! I know, to some of you…that’s small bananas, but I’m thrilled! Of course, I was thrilled with the first follower. I’m kind of easy to please that way. My sister says I live my life with totally no regard to whether others approve or not, and she envies that. And for the most part it’s true. I have come to the “it’s my life, I live it the way I think best, and the only person I’m responsible to is the one I see in the mirror each night” philosophy. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love validation. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear people say “I like the way you do that”. I don’t think you can ever truly get past wanting some recognition of a job well done. Whether it be, raising your kids, keeping your house clean, writing a blog. A pat on the back is always welcome. I do these things to please myself but that doesn’t mean I don’t get that warm fuzzy feeling when someone says “Your kids are great”, “Your house looks amazing”, or “You crack me up”. So thank you, thank you, thank you lovely followers, commenters, and lurkers. I love you one and all. On to today’s post:



No. I did not put this picture up so you could focus on how dirty my windows are. Nope, not so you could ask why I have a frosted glass full of sponge paintbrushes. Not why there is a three pack of scented bubble blow. Nor why there is a little glass jar of xmas tree light replacement bulbs. Focus people! Obviously, this is my kitchen window sill, right above the sink. Did you notice the strange white powder all over it? Yep, so did I.

And I called my hubby into the kitchen and said~

Me: Um, I’m a little afraid to ask, but what in the heck is that white stuff all over the window sill?!

Him: Sh*t! I meant to clean that up. I guess I got the sink and forgot the sill.

Me: uh huh. But what is it?

Him: Well, I was putting dishwasher soap in the dishwasher last night and we’re almost out and the powder was all clumped in the box. So I shut the box and I was shaking the h*ll out of it to break it up and the little metal thing flew off and powder went everywhere!

Me: (giggling hysterically) You are such a Goob! That’s hysterical.

Him: Btw, you should probably put that on the grocery list.

Me: duh.

Him: Don’t worry about it, I’ll clean it up.

Me: okay.

So that conversation was pretty humorous, right? The picture of my husband shaking the box of soap (probably hard enough to pulverize the lump of soap) and then it going everywhere? And my complete and utter surprise and confusion when I found the powder all over the sill? Right, I was even giggling myself. That day . But I’m not giggling anymore. Know why? Because I took that picture this morning!!! Five days after the preceding conversation. Remember the “don’t worry hun, I’ll clean it up’? Apparently I should have asked for an estimated date that he might accomplish this. You know like which century? Argh!

So I’m taking the picture this morning and my son, Sean asks- “what are you doing?”

And I tell him. “Huh.” he says. “I’m not sure what’s funnier~ the fact that dad forgot to clean it up, or the fact that I never even noticed it.”

These are the men I live with. It’s okay to feel sorry for me. Go ahead. I do.

Washing the windowsill (because damnit, someone has to)
♥Spot