Friday, June 29, 2007

Crabby crabby crabby

Not him. He's delightful. Me. I am crabby.

Oh my god. I woke up with a sore throat, but I can't even notice it now because I TWISTED MY ANGRY LITTLE HEAD THE WRONG WAY AND HURT MY NECK SO DAMN BAD that my throat isn't bothering me anymore.

I told Ben he was going to have to take me to the ER because I couldn't look down (so don't look down, freakshow). Then, I made him be late for work and go get some of those thermacare sticky pad things, and I cried -- cried-- because I couldn't stick it in the exact right spot, but I DID NOT WANT HELP. Then, I cried and cursed because the receptionist at Urgent Care (yes, I called fricking urgent care for a neck ache, what's it to you?) was rude to me -- as if my problem weren't serious. Then I cried because the Icy Hot was neither icy nor hot (it was, though, expired). Then Harry cried because his asshole parents forget to feed him breakfast.

(4 Ibuprofen and a heating pad and also a neck massage helped a little, in case you were worried)

To add insult to a injury, I had to clean my own damn house today, and I did not like it one little bit, damn it. Our cleaning lady canceled 3 times this week and has not returned our calls, and we have been expecting her to show up, so the place was d.i.r.t.y. And Harry is all about self feeding right now, so the place was also s.t.i.c.k.y.

Now Harry is with his lovely babysitter, and I am at Panera, where I am clearly very busy and important. And also full of mayonaise and cookie and a little self-loathing for eating the mayonaise and cookie.

The guy behind me is a loud talker and a loud chewer.

And he is wearing sweat shorts. I believe he's doing that newfangled thing called "telecommuting."

{Edited to Add: He is also WHISTLING and apparently suffering from delusions that make him think he is all alone.}

I don't want to read about eugenics-- that's what chapter 2 of my dissertation is about-- it's icky and depressing and I am already icky and depressed, and I have had a very rough day.

Luckily, I didn't have to clean alone. Harryella was there to help. Look at that face-- he means business.


  1. I am obsessed with the monkey bathroom decor. I can't stop looking at it (I apologize, I know it's not the focus of your entry, but oh. my. god. How cute!!!)

    Thank goodness you had Harryella to cover for the AWOL cleaning lady. Hope you locate her so you can fire her ass soon! :-)

  2. Anonymous10:10 PM

    Poor Harryella! He looks like he is all business.

  3. Oh man can I relate to you! I frequently go to the coffee shop and stress eat cookies, then stress about eating cookies, then accept the burned cookie they offer me because I'm there all the time and they're just going to throw it away.

    And the swimming lesson post was hilarious. I'm glad Harry's having such a good time!