Friday, September 25, 2009

Dear Universe,

Hey, Universe?

What did I do to piss you off? I recycle. (*cough* most of the time) I didn't interrupt any speeches at the VMAs. I wash my clothes in cold and hang them to dry. (except the towels, I hate crunchy towels. And socks. Sheets, too. Oh, and my jeans.) I even slowed down for the squirrel that ran across the road in front of me the other day. The snake was totally not my fault. How can I help it that the poor bastard was lying in the middle of the road and refused to move?

So why are you torturing me? What did I ever do to you?!

I should have known on Monday, when I dropped Jake off at school and noticed the tire pressure gauge alarm thing in my car was lit. It had been lit up for a few days last week and I had kept forgetting to tell Hubs. Note to self: blinky things in the car mean something. Pay attention, stupid. He fixed it and it seemed fine. This time, the tire was almost flat, and I could actually see why; there was a nail sticking out the side of it, as if someone just shoved it in there.

So I took the car to the tire shop, $40 later it was fixed, and I was late for work. I don't know about you, but that sort of thing just completely throws off my day and then I feel behind for most of it.

The fruit flies could've been a clue, too. Oh my GOD, the fruit flies are driving my insane. Why do they fly around the monitor, for God's sake? I keep waving my hands, and then wondering if the screen just has something wrong with it. There's no food in here. There's not even any fruit on the counter. Fruit flies are minions of the devil, I tell you.

Anyway so Jake, being the interesting kid he is, was sitting out on the back porch Tuesday night burning a little incense (the kid likes to meditate a bit. Don't ask.) when he heard our side gate open and the crunch of someone walking through the gravel on the side of our house to the backyard.

Hubs and I were both inside.

Jake came running in, we flipped the lights on, went out the front door, and saw some moron running down the street. Great! Scared off the jerk! That'll teach him, huh? We chalked it up to some one time thing and promptly forgot about it.

Wednesday wins the prize as the weirdest day this week, hands down. Universe, you had so much fun that day.

We were all tired and looking forward to a quiet evening at home, when at 8 pm, Hubs finally dropped a bomb that he wasn't feeling so well. He had pains in his chest that were shooting down his arm, and his face felt numb. Perhaps, he reasoned, he should go to the ER because it had been going on for THREE FREAKING DAYS.

I resisted the urge to slap him upside the head. He hummed and hawed most of the night, refusing to go but occasionally saying "I'll wait and see a bit", until I finally issued an ultimatum. Go now and I'll go with you, or go later and be by yourself because dude, I'm tired. I'm not waiting until midnight to finally go to the ER.

So we went. Of course, he told everyone that I "made" him go. Whatever.

Anyway, so since chest pain is kind of a serious thing, he got to jump the line and was ushered right in, wired up, and they asked me to wait a bit in the waiting room.

Ya, a waiting room; exactly how I wanted to spend my Wednesday night. Suddenly it filled up quickly and there we were, all cramped into this impossibly tiny space; some people were in serious pain, some were grouchy (me?), and nobody wanted to make small talk. Until, a man came in covered in cuts and it was obvious that he'd been dipping into the sauce. He talked to the admitting girl and his voice was so loud everyone could hear why he was at the ER.

The guy tried to climb a razor wire fence. In shorts. When asked why, he looked incredulous and answered,

"To get to the other SIDE!?"

Because, you know, we ALL want to climb razor wire topped fences to get to the other side. What kind of question is that, anyway?

Suddenly the rest of us in the waiting room collectively giggled. It was bad, I know, but you have to get some humor out of a situation where you or a loved one is sick somehow. I just wasn't going to allow myself to actually think that there might be something serious with Hubs because if there was, I needed to keep it together.

The hospital said Hubs was fine, but they wanted to keep him for observation. I left him there and went home. I was gone one HOUR. ONE.

In that hour, Jake was watching TV and the prowler was back on the side of the house at the same time as the night before. Jake told me he flipped the lights on and then? THEN? My heart almost stopped when he told me what happened next; my baby went flying outside ("I grabbed a big stick, Mom") to confront the person. Fortunately Jake scared the person more than they scared Jake, because they took off down the street with Jake yelling at them.

I called the police and reported it. An officer came by to check things out and talk to us, thankfully reiterating to Jake NOT to go outside and instead call 911 immediately. I think that they have been watching the house and saw Hubs and I leave for the hospital, so they thought nobody was home.

You can well imagine how much we slept last night. A little freaked out about a possible home invasion, I slept with the lights on, the cell phone next to the bed, and checked every window and door about a zillion times to make sure they were all locked tight.

Then there was the fact that I'm a little nervous about leaving Hubs overnight in a hospital, since the last time he wound up in almost dying and in an ICU for a week. It sort of plays with your mid a bit after that, right? Jake didn't sleep either.

I was back at the ER at 6:30 am because the doc said they wanted to keep him for only six hours, which would have meant a 4 am pick up, but I was not getting up that early. I thought 6:30 was being generous.

Instead? We sat. Yawned. Waited for FOUR HOURS. Tried to make small talk, and ended up just sitting there looking at each other, while Hubs glared at the IV thing in his arm. The nurses kept saying, "oh, maybe when the labs come back." Then "Oh, maybe when doctor B comes." Then, "Oh, have some breakfast!"

Haven't they SEEN the hospital breakfast? Are they INSANE?

It was torture. Torture made a little brighter by the offer of grabbing us a coffee at a great coffee place in town, bless Jake's best friend's dad, who happened to be working.

I wanted to bow and kiss his feet I was so, so, SO grateful. Maybe he'll settle for a batch of cookies.

Anyway, by the time we finally got home we collectively decided that all three of us would all spend a day in our jammies, watching TV, napping, and doing generally nothing because we all so need it.

Well, nothing except waiting for that prowler to come back so we can call 911 on his ass.

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