And Feisty Pants, who cried for six effing hours last evening,
turns out to have a sinus infection. So we have fourteen days of digestion bombing
antibiotics to look forward to. And my computer, which is on some days the only
sane adult I get to speak to, has an infection of its own and works for about 60
seconds and then freezes for 90. And will not be fixed until tomorrow at the
earliest because Goo only works on it at night like some pixie computer cobbler.
And we spent all morning at the doctors only to come home to the great After St
Valentine's Day Massacre in which several stuffed animals were mowed down in
their prime in what I can only assume is a turf war between the dog and the new
kitten. And the (insert favorite expletive here) food pump is now behaving
peculiarly so it took an hour to make it work this lunchtime. (Electronics do
NOT like me, seriously. Google the phrase "Pauli Effect". I have that.) And
precisely because we spent all morning swanning about the hospital, I did not
have time for yoga, so I am really frigging relaxed and zen right now. (Can't
ya tell??)
Oh well, sigh, whatcha gonna do? The friend needed reassurance.
My kid is only on antibiotics and can go back to school tomorrow, so it's just a
minor thing really. We have at least a zoo's worth of stuffed animals. (I have
given away hefty bags full of them. One just this week.) And Goo is actually a
real live computer tech, so the damn machine will be fixed right. Eventually.
And in the meanwhile, we will just have to put on our big girl panties and deal
with it, secure in the knowledge that, somehow, we are burning off some bad
karma and it will be replaced with good. Like great health for those we love or
winning the lottery or something.
But in the meantime, if I spontaneously burst into flames,
would someone please douse me with holy water or bring some of those amazing marshmallows with the coconut on them to toast? You know, something yummy to go
with watching the world burn.