Of Pussies and Pain

Well…my weekend was simply lovely. I did not a damn thing all weekend (including the school work that I was sooo soo sure that I was going to do *sighs* ) AND I got yesterday off. But that wasn’t a good thing.

I don’t know what was wrong with me over the weekend. I was such a total lazy bear. Saturday I think I might have moved from my comfy chair like ONCE… at least until I started making the spaghetti sauce. I have a remarkably empty refrigerator, and I am stubbornly refusing to go to the grocery store to buy junk. I HAVE stuff to eat, it is just a matter of cooking it. So anyway, on Saturday I figured that I might as well bust open the containers of tomato paste that I have had in my cupboard for almost 3 months and convert them along with some other odds and ends from the freezer into some yummy spaghetti sauce that can be further used in a wide variety of things. As I am 1) highly experimentative and 2) anal...it took me like 5 hours before I was realllly satisfied with the sauce. Of course, by that time I was no longer in the least bit hungry. Of course, the fact that I had most likely eaten almost a cup of the stuff during repeated taste tests to fix and refix several errors (have you ever tasted sweet spaghetti sauce… just THINKING about is turning my stomach) left me rather uninterested in anything tomatoey that night. Sunday was a repeat of Saturday. Except this time, I actually ate the spaghetti. It was rather good if I may say so myself. I have loads of it left at home, and I am sure I will be eating spaghetti until I am sick of it but.. *shrugs* I’m trying to be thrifty thrifty. I taped BackLash Sunday night, but wasn’t able to watch it all… and besides, I had to go to bed so that I could get up and workout (as I had slacked and did nothing but weights and ab work over the weekend). However…my Monday plans were going to be rudely disrupted.

5:30 am Monday morning: I am woken up by the sudden sensation of someone thrusting a long sharp hot poker straight through my left eyelid. Oh what joy, oh how wonderful.

6:30 am: I am still laying in bed, having moved twice (rolling over) and considering that my head felt like it was going to explode from that, decided that doing any thing to raise my blood pressure just might be fatal. Or if not fatal, it sure as hell would feel that way.

6:35 am: Swallow two Advil and a Motrin

7:00 am: Manage to get out of bed in triple slow motion. Wonder how long it takes for drugs to kick in. Stagger to the shower.

7:15 am: Exit out of the shower feeling vaguely human. Realize what time it is and step up my speed to double slow time…I don’t want to miss the bus (Yes… I was actually GOING to work)

7:30am: Fly out of the apartment building just in time to yell “HOLD THE BUS”…as I do most mornings…Thank god there is a seat at the very front of the bus for me to collapse into. Curse every non existent shock and every very large pothole the bus goes through as they seem to add additional spikes to the big hot one sticking out if my head. Wonder why the drugs haven’t worked yet.

7:40am: Step onto the other bus, reeling from the sudden wave of nausea. Realize suddenly that if I had to drive MYSELF to work, I would have killed a few people by now. I curl up in the corner of the bus for the entire torturous ride to work.

8:00am: Arrive at work, looking and feeling like shit. But I’m not SICK… it’s just a little headache. Cringe at the sound of my own heels hitting the ground. Decide I will give myself an hour, and if I don’t feel better, will go home.

8:03am: Walk into the team room, have several people look at me and tell me to go home. I haven’t even gotten to my desk yet…which I really need to get to so that I can lean my 5 ton head against something.

8:15am: Have managed to turn on my computer, read two pieces of email, throw up, and get officailly kicked out of the office, along with a free ride to take me home

8:30am: Close the blinds in my room, climb back into bed, cry a little, curse the lying makers of Advil and Motrin, sleep until 3:00.

I STILL don’t know what the hell was wrong with me. When I woke up I still had a tiny bit of a headache, that rapidly escalated into a throb if I bent over or moved any faster than a veryyyy slow walk. Two more Motrin and about 2 quarts of water solved THAT little bastard though. *shrugs* One of my coworkers said that it might have been a migraine, and if so.. oh dear GOD! That is one thing I would take drugs… very very very strong drugs for in a heartbeat.

But… the day got better. Cheffy brought me a gift since he knew I was feeling like shit….a itty bitty fuzzzy piece of a gray Kitten. *grins* S/he is sooooo adorable. I think it’s a girl, but I’m not quite sure. It’s name right now is Giovanni, but it might be changed to be officially Nikki Giovanni if examination turns out that he is a she. I have tried to examine Giovanni a few times, and I don’t SEE any dangly bits, so I’m thinking it’s a girly kitty. :) He also went out and got the needed bits and pieces. :) Giovanni is an independent cuss, although if I ever meet whoever had her before I got her I’mma beat them upside the head because it looks like someone trimmed his whiskers. Evil creatures. She’s also kinda petting shy.. so I’m thinking the previous owners had some bad ass kids who tormented the poor baby a bit. *narrows eyes* Cat meanies.
Anyhowwwww… I’mma take her to the vet around the corner after I get paid next month to get shots and check for the sex and see when I need to get the little bit ‘fixed’. *grins* That made the whole rest of the rather shitty day much much better.

I feel rather bad as I have not really ‘worked out’ in almost four days now. When I get home I HAVE to wash clothes, work out, do some work on my school stuff and play with Giovanni. :) Let’s see how many of those things I reallllly get done.


Stay Jazzed.